


Half Stalled

by ifeelflames



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Communication Failure, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Slow Build, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 13:40:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/662623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifeelflames/pseuds/ifeelflames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has just moved back home to start his new job; teaching Psychology at Beacon Hills High. Laura Hale is one of his colleagues and soon becomes a good friend. Stiles spends a lot of time at Laura's place, and if Laura just so happens to live with her rather attractive (and somewhat fascinating) younger brother then Stiles isn't going to complain, no siree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Half Stalled

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fanfic this long in about 6 years, but apparently Teen Wolf brings it out in me!
> 
> Beta for this piece was the wonderful [el-gilliath](http://el-gilliath.livejournal.com/), thank you dear!

Stiles is starting to feel rather nervous about his first day teaching. He was thrilled when he graduated (and graduated well may he just add). It felt like he was sticking two fingers up at everyone who didn’t believe he had the focus to stick it out and make something of himself. It was even better when he not only got a job but he managed to get one back at home, in his old school no less! He couldn’t help feeling like the kid did good for once, and he knew his Dad was really proud.

Only now he’s had time to think on it, and really, it’s not so great. He remembers what kids did to teachers in that school; hell he remembers what _he_ got up to in that school. He also remembers that Mrs. Cornwell left from a nervous breakdown…

Not the sort of thing to be thinking about right now he resolves, as he parks up his hatchback in the staff car park. He has a sudden flash of fond nostalgia for his jeep, he misses Betsy. His new car (well, it’s new to him but it’s certainly not new, it wasn’t new to the guy before him, or the girl before that...in looking at it he'd hazard a guess its first owner roamed the earth with the dinosaurs) is fine and all apart from being a total heap of crap, but his father told him it was more ‘age appropriate’. He refuses to sell the jeep though, so she’s sitting outside his Dad’s under a tarp. His argument for this was that he wasn’t clinging on to the past, it was just that no-one would pay him anything for her anyway. Stiles is sticking to his story, and if he pets her on the sly every time he visits his Dad then no-one else needs to know about it.

As a newly qualified teacher Stiles knows he might as well have a painted a target on his back. He remembers how they all responded to a new teacher, to fresh meat; he isn’t looking forward to the first few weeks. Stiles knows he is going to need to assert his dominance if he wants to get anywhere, which he is perfectly capable of, but he also wants the kids to like him. Was it asking too much to want to be liked _and_ respected? When it came to high school kids Stiles suspects it might be.

The only blessing is that the school offers a buddy system for new teachers. Truthfully Stiles wasn’t remotely sold on this idea when he’d first been told about it. It had sounded like the sort of half assed scheme someone had come up with to make the school sound good, when in fact it was only going to make him feel more awkward.

However, he’d gone to the school after being informed his interview had been successful to be given the grand tour (which he considered kind of ridiculous seeing how many years he’d spent there as a student) and he’d been introduced to the person who would be acting as his buddy; Laura Hale, who had been teaching both history and photography at the school for the past 3 years.

Stiles had originally been a bit apprehensive about Laura being his mentor. He didn’t really remember her per say, as she’s a few years older than him. With his Dad as the Sheriff though, he remembers exactly what happened to her family, and he’d been dreading the fact he’d say something really awkward and put his foot in it as only he could…it’s like a rare gift nobody wants.

He’d stood outside the staff room trying and failing not to think about the Hale fire crime scene photos he'd snuck at look at on his father’s desk when he’d been a kid. Stiles hadn’t sleep for days after seeing them. He could still recall his father coming home the day of the fire with red-rimmed eyes, and how he’d pulled Stiles into a bone crushing hug.

But then Stiles had met Laura in the staff room. She was attractive, tall and slender, but she had a strength about her that was obvious. Her eyes were warm but a little wild, and she gave his hand a firm shake and him an easy smile. “Stiles right? Welcome to the mad house Mr. Stiles Stilinski,” she’d smirked. “The kids are going to have a heyday with your name by the way.”

Stiles had protested, of course. “Excuse me, I’ll have you know it’s exotic and merely adds to my allure!” He’d rolled his r and Laura had rolled her eyes, but then she’d links her arm through his as if they’d known each other a lot longer than 5 minutes, and given him the grand tour.

That had been a couple of months ago, and he’s been in casual contact with Laura via email since. It helps knowing he already knows one of his colleagues, and Laura is pretty awesome so he’s gained a friend to boot.

\-----

Laura is waiting for him in the staff room when he gets there.

“You didn’t bottle it and run away screaming then?” she grins as he takes a seat beside her, fiddling nervously with his tie. He hates ties, even skinny ones like this one.

“Me? I’m cool as a cucumber,” he tells her. “A cucumber that’s been left out of the fridge on the hottest day of the year and has dried to a crisp, but still…”

Laura laughs and bumps her shoulder into his. “You can do it Mr Stilinski.”

The bell rings and Stiles gets to his feet. It wouldn’t do to be later than his pupil to the classroom.

“Knock 'em dead!” Laura offers cheerily as they part ways and head to their classrooms.

\-----

When 4pm rolls around Stiles collapses onto the staff room sofa, which is seriously lumpy, with an oooft sound. As far as first days go he knows it could have been worse, but he’s exhausted, and he’s pretty sure he still had a paper spit ball stuck somewhere in the back of his hair. Maybe he should bring the buzz cut back after all; it might make personal hygiene easier. Some of the members of staff speak to him, a good half of them don’t. He nearly laughs out loud when he realizes the gym coach these days is Greenberg. Finstock must have had a fit over that.

Laura sits down gracefully next to him about 15 minutes later. The room is clearing out and he knows he needs to move. “You survived, that means Harris owes me 20 bucks”, she remarks gleefully.

Stiles groans. He can’t quite believe that Harris is still here. They’d spent the entirety of lunch break giving each other the stink eye over the coffee table. Some things would never change, and their mutual hatred for one another was definitely one of them. “He couldn’t have retired and done the world a favor?” is all he says on the matter.

“Oh he could, but then he couldn’t ruin young lives on a daily basis,” Laura replies sagely.

Laughing Stiles gets to his feet and slings his satchel over his shoulders. “I guess I’ll be heading home now. Thanks for everything, and I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Laura raises an eyebrow. “Oh no you don’t, you’re coming back to mine for a coffee. I want all the gory details, like who put that spit ball in your hair?”

Stiles swipes at the back of his head and swears.

He follows Laura home in his car and feels relief at being done for the day. The general staff reception seemed kind of frosty and, apart from Greenberg, Laura is the closest in age to him. He finds himself commending the Beacon Hills teacher buddy scheme. Laura Hale is clearly a force to be reckoned with, but he likes her and she seems all kinds of awesome. In fact they already get on like a …. _oh my god, do not think ‘like a house on fire’ Stiles, so inappropriate!_ He mentally slaps himself and bangs his head on his steering wheel for good measure, then continues driving.

\-----

“Go on into the kitchen Stiles, I’ll just get my boots off then I’ll make us a coffee, unless you want tea?”

Stiles heads towards the doorway Laura is gesturing to and smiles a tired smile, “Coffee is definitely in order after a day with those little hellions.”

Her laugh is loud but somewhat musical. “Make yourself at home, you’re free from them now for ohhh…” she glances at her watch “…another 15 hours or so.”

Stiles always feels a little odd the first time he visits someone’s house. Wandering around the kitchen feels a little like trespassing, even if Laura did tell him to make himself at home. His fingers graze absently over the marbled work surfaces as his eyes roam the room, noting how it is clean and organized. You can tell a lot about someone from their kitchen if you take the time to look. Stiles can see, for instance, that there are two cups out next to the kettle that look well used; their patterns faded around the top from excess washing and sipping, whereas the rest of the cups are behind a glass windowed cabinet and look pretty much pristine. Stiles can only presume either Laura has a super regular coffee buddy or she doesn’t live alone. He’s guessing the later.

His thoughts are confirmed moments later when he hears a gruff voice bellow, “Laura, that you?”

Her response is to shout in a rather un-lady like manner, “Who else is it going to be dumbass?”

He hears someone thundering down the stairs. “You used all the hot water this morning, again.” The accusation is filled with a deep-seated annoyance that Stiles can feel from here.

“Oh, I did? Whoops, sorry,” She says, using the kind of faux innocent voice the kids had use when they’d pretended they didn’t just flick a ball of spit and paper at his head, and Stiles calls bullshit.

He hears what can only be described as a sound somewhere between a growl and a grunt.

So Laura has a partner then, a rather grumpy one by the sounds of it. He can’t imagine her with some sullen brute, he guesses maybe opposites attract, or maybe the sex is just really good…Stiles spares a wistful minute on the thought of hot sex, because it’s been awhile.

Laura moves into the kitchen and starts finding the stuff she needs to make coffee, and Stiles is about to ask if he can do anything to help when the guy starts talking again, his voice drifting into the kitchen from the hallway.

“I know you think you’re funny, but you’re really not. I do not enjoy taking cold showers!”

Laura continues as if she hasn’t heard the grumbling. “Do you take milk and sugar Stiles?” she asks sweetly, a wicked look in her eyes, the corner of her mouth quirking up slightly.

Stiles’ mouth opens to answer, but once again he is cut off because suddenly there is a hulking great shadow in the doorframe. “Are you even listening Laura? Laura? For fu-”

Stiles takes in the man as he stops mid stride, his eyes locking on Stiles, suddenly registering that Laura isn’t alone. Okay, so maybe he can see why Laura put up with the mood swings, because _damn_ that is certainly a package that is easy on the eye. He’ll have to congratulate her on it later…although that gaze is, _unsettling_. Stiles finds himself hoping this guy really isn’t the jealous type, and that he isn’t about to kick off over Laura inviting him back to hers because, Jesus, the arm muscles trying to break their way out of that t-shirt…that is not a fight he’d win.

“Derek, this is Stiles,” Laura beams at the man. “Say hello and play nicely like a good boy, yes?”

Stiles offers a wide smile and a small wave, doing his best to convey the thought ‘just here for coffee, not hitting on your woman, trust me’. Derek just narrows his eyes, grunts and turns his attention back to Laura, which ok, wow, rude. “ _Don’t_ use all the hot water tomorrow, or I won’t be held responsible for my actions” with that Derek leaves the room and Stiles can hear him stomp back upstairs.

“Okay, let’s try this again, without the interruptions,” Laura informs him before asking once again, “milk and sugar, yes or no?”

“I…ummm…” Stiles pulls his attention away from the empty doorway and back to Laura. “Yeah, milk and two sugars thanks.”

“He’s a little ray of sunshine isn’t he?” She laughs, stirring in the sugar and handing Stiles a coffee in one of the good mugs from the glass cabinet.

“I’m guessing you don’t keep him around for his conversational skills.” Stiles claps a hand over his mouth, because yeah, that was kind of a rude thing to say about someone’s partner who you’ve only just met. _Need to make this better Stiles_ he panics “I, errr…Not that conversation is everything, particularly when you look like him, Jesus. I mean, wow, nice one!” Oh god, he was making it worse, now he sounds like some kind of cross between a sassy gay friend and a total douche perving on her guy. He takes a big sip of his coffee even though it’s too hot just to stop himself from talking. This is why he shouldn’t be allowed out, particularly when he’s tired and a bit strung out.

But Laura just bursts out laughing, a look of abject horror crossed with high levels of amusement on her face. “Oh my god Stiles, no! Derek is my brother!”

Brother. Right. He probably should have thought of that, he knew Laura had a brother after all, and now he knows he can definitely see a family resemblance. He takes another sip of his coffee. “Okay, right, so let’s just pretend that conversation never happened, and I’ll drink this and be gone.”

Laura shoves her elbow into his side. “Don’t be so ridiculous Stiles; sit down, drink your coffee. Then we can decide what type of take out to order.”

Stiles chokes a little on his drink, but he does as he’s told, because he’s fast learning Laura Hale is not someone to mess with. “So, is your brother…” he begins, trying to think of a polite way to word his question.

“Single?” Laura interrupts with a sly arch of her eyebrow. Stiles’ mouth falls open into an o shape.

“I was going to say ‘always that grumpy’ actually, I was just trying to think of a nicer way of wording it,” he tells her indignantly. He ignores the little part of his brain that is now curious over whether Derek is indeed single.

Laura smirks, “Yes, on both accounts, just in case you were wondering.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively and Stiles groans.

“He seems like a perfect study for cause and effect,” Stiles replies sagely, attempting to deflect Laura from her path. “Bring him in one day and I’ll see what my students think. Is he single because he’s grumpy, or is he grumpy because he’s single?”

“You are not using my brother as a case study,” she snorts. “You’d give the kids nightmares!”

Stiles smiles into his coffee and takes another sip.

“He’s not as bad as you think.” Laura sighs a little, and Stiles is caught off guard by the sudden soft fondness in her voice. “He was younger than me when it happened.” She doesn’t say what ‘it’ was, but there can only be one thing she’s talking about. “I was old enough to get through it somehow, I had to be strong for him and I focused on my studies. Our parents wanted so badly for me to teach when they knew it was what I wanted, they had been putting money aside for college. After, I gave everything to make sure I managed to achieve it; even if they weren’t still here to see me do it, but Derek…he’d only just been growing into who he was meant to be. When it happened he just kind of fell into himself. Sometimes it feels like he lost half of himself that day too. He’s better now, but some things forever change you, y’know?”

Stiles squirms slightly in his seat and swallows when he sees the raw look in Laura’s eyes because he knows how losing his Mom made him feel, still makes him feel. To lose so many people in one go must have been beyond horrific. He doesn’t even want to contemplate it, or what it would do to a person. He reaches a hand out and places it over hers without really thinking, before wondering if that’s inappropriate given the newness of their friendship, it doesn’t feel it though.

“Everyone copes in different ways,” is all he says. He remembers his Dad and how he turned to work and drinking for a while, how a part of his Dad seemed to leave with his Mom, and he figures it’s not exactly surprising Derek isn’t a ray of sunshine.

Laura nods and just like that her face changes and her smile is back, but Stiles now realizes she wears it a bit like a mask and uses her wit and sarcasm like a shield against the things that are just too hard to think about. It might be early days in their friendship, but Stiles already they have a lot in common.

“So, what take out are we getting?” he questions, and she looks relieved for the change in topic.

\-----

Laura picks up the phone and orders their pizzas (“the usual Jo, plus a veggie feast”) which Stiles is totally on board with, because he is always going to be a fan of pizza.

When the knock at the door comes he goes to meet the delivery guy, noting that he’s carrying three pizza boxes not two, and what looks like a cake box, so either Laura is super hungry or Derek will be joining them. He hands over a wad of money and heads back towards the kitchen, balancing his precious cargo. He swears under his breath when he trips over one of Laura’s boots and clings to the pizzas desperately, fumbling for a moment before regaining a decent hold of the boxes. That’s when he notices he isn’t alone; Derek is standing on the bottom step of the stairs watching him struggle with a small smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“You could always help you know.” The words are out of Stiles’ mouth before he can stop them, and Derek raises an eyebrow just like his sister does. Damn, Stiles has always wanted to be able to do that. “Or not, but if I drop one I’ll make sure it’s yours.” He grins what he knows is an infuriating grin, and the smirk on Derek’s lips disappears and a slight scowl is back, but Derek wordlessly plucks the cake box and one pizza box out of Stiles’ hands and heads towards the table. Stiles thinks of what Laura was saying earlier and resolves that, however sullen Derek Hale might be, he is going to be annoyingly nice to him, because he’s guessing Derek is probably pretty short of friends; and everyone needs a friend…even if they don’t want one.

About half way through his second slice of pizza, Stiles notes Derek definitely doesn’t seem to want a friend. He chews absently on his veggie feast as Laura munches away in silence and Derek glares at his food. “Hope you don’t mind me staying for pizza Derek?” Stiles interjects because, oh my god, he can’t take the silence anymore. He deliberately went with a question rather than a statement to try and elicit a response. Derek’s eyebrows raise and his eyes widen slightly like he’s startled someone spoke to him, Stiles swears he’s sees Laura grin behind her slice of pizza.

“Whatever,” Derek shrugs and his eyes dart to Stiles and then away again as and continues eating.

Stiles sucks on his bottom lip, trying to think of something else to stay. He looks at Laura for help, because seriously, he’s drowning here.

“So you’re a meat feast man,” he tries again, but Derek is just looking at him like he’s from another planet, and he’s not really sure where he is going with this. “I get the veggie one in an attempt to kid myself I’m being healthy. I mean, I’m still getting part of my five a day this way, this has to be better for me…” Stiles glances at Laura again. Any time she wants to add to the conversation that would be great.

“So Stiles thought you were my live in lover,” Laura casually throws out there, and Stiles chokes on his pizza so hard Laura has to smack him on his back. That wasn’t quite what he had in mind as a conversation starter and he glares at her, hoping his red cheeks can be blamed on the choking fit.

“I think I’ll stick with the meat feast, seems to be less of a choking hazard,” Derek replies dryly, ignoring Laura’s words completely, his face giving away nothing.

Stiles stares through watering eyes, as if he can’t believe his ears. “Whatever,” he croaks and takes a long sip of water. “You just wait until you’re old and your arteries are all cloggy with pepperoni fat. I will have the last laugh.”

“If you haven’t choked to death on a stray mushroom by then.” Derek’s voice seems to hold a mixture of challenge, amusement and annoyance all in one go, which Stiles considers quite impressive.

Laura starts talking about school then, and Stiles listens eagerly as she tells him what kids to watch out for and which ones aren’t that bad.

“You’re already a hit with Sarah Bailey,” she grins. “I caught her passing a note about you in fourth period. Apparently you have, and I quote,” she pauses to make her eyes huge and clasp her hands together, “ ‘The most amazing eyes and the cutest ass’ ” she relaxes back into her chair, “just so you know”.

Stiles barely refrains from choking again, and he can feel the tops of his ears burning. “That’s errr…wildly inappropriate, but flattering I guess,” he laughs. “If only the rest of the world saw through Sarah Bailey’s eyes I’d be laughing.” He runs a hand through his hair and scratches self consciously at his neck. Laura is side eyeing Derek about something, but he is refusing to meet her gaze.

Once the pizza has been devoured Laura reaches gleefully for the cake box and produces a sickly looking banoffee pie.

“Can I tempt you Stiles?” she waves the box under his nose.

Stiles pats his stomach thoughtfully, stretches his arms above his head and then answers “Why the hell not,” because Stiles is never one to say no to dessert.

Stiles looks at Derek who is screwing his nose up slightly at the pie like it’s an offensive object. Laura catches him looking and laughs, “Derek doesn’t share my sweet tooth.”

Stiles gives him questioning eyes “Dude, who doesn’t like dessert?” because really, it’s the best part of any meal.

Derek shrugs and Stiles thinks that’s all he’s going to get, but after a pause Derek replies, “I eat some desserts, but that,” and he points at the pie Laura is slicing, “is a sugar filled abomination.”

“I know,” Stiles replies dreamily, dipping his finger into the topping and swiping some off before sucking on it, “and it’s utter bliss.”

“And you can eat it guilt free after that healthy pizza,” Derek’s voice is laced with sarcasm.

Stiles just grins. “Now you’re catching on.”

\-----

Stiles stays for a while longer and finishes his slice of pie, declining another because he really is stuffed. He’s been slumping further and further down into his chair, and only realizes when his foot bumps against Derek’s under the table.

Yawning his slides himself back into a sitting position and declares “I am freaking exhausted.” He’s tired and it has been a long day, but he feels relaxed.

“Thanks guys, tonight’s been fun,” he makes the effort to include Derek, even though apart from a couple of remarks from him it’s mainly just been Stiles and Laura nattering on. Still, he thought Derek might bolt from the room after finishing his pizza, but he’s stayed and relaxed somewhat, and Stiles is starting to suspect he might actually have a pretty awesome sense of humor hiding under all the stares and frowns.

Laura gets up and shows him to the door saying, “See you tomorrow Mr. Stiles Stilinski.”

He just manages to catch the loud snort Derek makes on hearing his full name. “Hey, it’s exotic and alluring,” he shouts though to the kitchen, before getting into his car and heading for home.

\-----

Home is a small slightly dingy flat, because Stiles isn’t exactly flush financially, but he really didn’t want to move back in with his Dad. He loves his father, but after college he’s got used to having his own space. Plus, being back in Beacon Hills alone is enough to make him feel a bit like a kid again; he doesn’t need anything else adding to it.

He has plans to visit his Dad for dinner tomorrow night, which will be nice. It was hard adjusting to being away from him for four years after being everything to each other for so long. It feels a bit like slipping into a well worn pair of shoes being so close to him again, almost like letting out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

He thinks about calling Scott to tell him how his first day went, but instead he just falls asleep on the couch, guaranteeing he’ll wake up with a cricked neck.

\-----

The first week passes in a bit of a blur, and when the weekend finally comes around Stiles is grateful to have some time to unpack, because living out of boxes is getting super old super fast if he’s honest. He makes himself a coffee and gets started.

Around 11am he gets a call from Scott. “Hey Buddy! Wanna come home for the weekend and help me unpack?” he greets him.

“Umm, well the good news is I’m actually in Beacon Hills right now-was going to call you later and tell you! The bad is that I’m here with Allison doing family stuff.” He can hear the guilt in Scott’s voice and sighs, because really Scott will always be an oversized puppy.

“No worries dude,” he tries his best to sound breezy and in no way sad. Truthfully, he’s more resigned than anything else these days. Long distance friendships are hard work, and Scott and him do their best, but when high school ended their friendship struggled a bit.

Stiles didn’t move far away, he wanted to be able to get home when he needed it, so he ended up at Berkley. Scott stayed in Beacon Hills training up with Deaton and attended community college for a couple of years, so in theory they should have seen a lot of each other. However, Alison ended up picking a college in Washington, and so Scott had used all his holidays and long weekends visiting her, and they’d both been snowed under with more work and commitments than they’d expected, and Stiles had stayed at Berkley over the summer most years to take part in extra curricular field work too, so that hadn’t helped.

Face to face interactions were few and far between, and when he’d been at Berkley that had been ok because he’d had a whole heap of other friends, and they’d still spoken on the phone and emailed all the time. Now he was back in Beacon Hills though, back walking the school corridors, it felt kind of lonely without Scott.

“What are you both doing back here?” Stiles asks out of curiosity.

When Stiles had applied for the job at Beacon Hills he’d thought, maybe a little childishly, that they might go back to how they used to be. He remembers dialing Scott to tell him, only to have Scott blurt out “Dude, so I’m moving in with Allison. She asked me to join her up there, and well, obviously I said yes!” Stiles had congratulated him and kept quiet about why he’d really been calling. Allison had got a job lined up in Seattle, and Deaton would give Scott a glowing reference, and so that was that.

“Her parents complained that she doesn’t come home enough, so before her new job starts next week we figured we’d visit. Bro, we totally need to meet up. I’ve said I’ll do Argent family stuff today and I’m seeing Mom tomorrow, but we’re not going back until Wednesday.”

“Alright,” Stiles ponders. “Well, I can sort something I’m sure. I’ve got a ton of marking to do tomorrow and I’m not sure how long it’s gonna take, so what about after I finish work on Tuesday?”

Scott enthusiastically agrees and so they arrange to meet at the diner they used to frequent as kids for dinner.

Stiles spends all Saturday turning the apartment into something that feels more like home, and spends a large part of Sunday with his Dad; eating and watching a game on the TV and telling him all about Laura, and maybe he mentions Derek a couple of times, but it's no big deal.

\-----

By the time Monday comes round and he’s back to work he’s beginning to feel more settled into this new version of his old life. He makes it through the morning and is satisfied that around fifty percent of his students seem to have been paying attention. If it’s more than twenty percent he’s decided to count it as a win. They even asked some questions, so result.

Laura is in the staffroom at lunchtime, and he flops down next to her and they start sharing stories of their weekend and scoffing down their sandwiches while she shows him some photos she’s taken over the weekend to inspire her students.

“There was a lot of unpacking,” Stiles tells her, “And some Dad time, that was about as exciting as it got.”

Laura chuckles, “Well if the unpacking is done, you should come round to ours tonight & celebrate!”

Stiles grins, “What, is Pizza Monday going to become a thing now?” He thinks he could live with that.

She rolls her eyes at him but she’s smiling. “Why not? Every tradition has to start somewhere.”

“I have a shit load of marking to do though,” Stiles sighs, because he knows what he’d rather be doing, but he has to get the marking done because he’s seeing Scott tomorrow.

“Ditto, so what’s say we pick up the pizza on the way home, say 7ish?”

Stiles brightens visibly, “I say hell yes!” Now he has something to look forward to the marking doesn’t seem quite so bad.

Laura leaves him then, saying she needs to get stuff set up for her next class. Stiles doesn’t know how she does it; teaching one subject is more than enough for him, but Laura teaches English Literature and Photography. The woman must be clinically insane.

Stiles glances around the room and can see Harris is giving him the ‘I’m judging you so hard’ look, and fights the urge to stick his tongue out at him, because fuck him, but he settles instead for scowling in his direction before heading back to his classroom. He has another 30 minutes before the next lesson begins, but anything is better than being stuck in a room with Harris.

He opens a textbook and leafs through the pages they need to cover today and decides there has to be a more fun way of teaching it. By the time his students arrive he’s moved all the desks and chairs around and he assigns them seats. “Today class, we’re going to have a little fun. Obviously Jennings and Clarke are going to be late like usual, presenting us with the perfect opportunity for a social experiment. So, here’s what we’re going to do…”

Stiles has always felt you learn best when you activity take part in something, and his class seem to agree, as by the end of the hour everyone seems to be paying attention and laughing at the expense of Jennings and Clarke. An added bonus is he doesn’t think they’ll be late to his class again any time soon. He is still feeling suitably smug when he sits down to tackle his marking a couple of hours later.

\-----

When Laura knocks on his classroom door he already has his coat on his bag slung over his shoulder. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” is all he says and they head out to their cars.

He drives behind her until they reach the pizza place, but then she waves him on and mouths that she’ll grab them and meet him at home. Well there was a lot of gesturing and pointing, but he’s pretty sure that’s what she was getting at.

He pulls up outside Laura’s place and sits in the car a moment, pondering whether he should wait here until she arrives, or knock on the door and risk disturbing Derek. Feeling ridiculous, he gets out of the car and knocks.

He hears “It’s open,” shouted from somewhere inside, and so cautiously lets himself in.

He finds Derek in the kitchen, and is surprised to see he’s laid three places at the table. “How did you…” he begins, but Derek cuts him off.

“Laura phoned me earlier to ask what I wanted. She said you were coming, so…” Derek shuffles over to the counter and returns with a mug in his hands. “She also said something about milk and two sugars?” he offers the cup to Stiles.

Stiles knows he’s staring, and that it’s rude to stare like he’s staring, but it still takes him a moment to engage is brain and take the cup. “Umm, yeah, that’s right, thanks!” he can feel a slightly stupid grin is on his face but Derek just nods and picks up his own mug and starts drinking. “Laura won’t be long,” Stiles adds, because the silence is slightly awkward, “She’s just grabbing the pizzas.” Derek nods again and continues drinking. “I…I hope you don’t mind me coming over again, Laura said it’d be okay but…”

Derek is looking at him with a perplexed expression. “It’s fine,” he says before he goes back to drinking.

“I mean, I don’t have to stay, I know it’s your place too. But it’d be nice to get to know you as well, not that I know Laura that well. I guess it is kind of weird me crashing your house again considering…” And oh god, he’s babbling. But look at Derek’s face. Damn, it’s just so…and it’s making him anxious. Where is Laura? Why is she not here yet?

Derek pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, “ _Stiles_. Shut up and drink your coffee.”

Oh shit, right. Stile is aware he should have shut up about five minutes ago, and apparently so is Derek. “Yeah, right, sorry.” Stiles mimes zipping his lips shut, and takes a big gulp of coffee, and it’s good. He pauses a moment before he mimes unzipping his lips and adds, “Thanks, this is really good,” before pretending to zip them closed once more. He doesn’t miss the small smile Derek’s lips form when he thinks they’re hidden behind his cup. He resolves to make Derek smile more, because of reasons.

Stiles vows to bite his tongue and keep quiet in the hope Derek will decide to engage in conversation. They’ve both taken seats side by side at the table and have drunk most of their drinks before Derek speaks again. “What subject do you teach? Laura never said.”

“Psychology.” Stiles ducks his head slightly. “It was never really my plan to teach in all honesty, not like Laura by the sounds of it, but plans change so…”

Derek nods slightly. “What did you want to do?” he asks, his head titling slightly to the side as he observes Stiles and waits for his answer.

Stiles rubs a hand over the back of his neck self-consciously. “Well, I’m guessing you know my Dad is the Sheriff, seeing as there aren't a lot of Stilinskis in Beacon Hills.” He doesn’t leave a long enough pause for Derek to mock him, but he sees the left corner of his mouth twitch nonetheless.

“Anyway, I never wanted to follow in his footsteps exactly, but his job is what got me interested in psychology. Looking over case files, trying to work out how, why and who, it fascinated me. When I was getting ready to apply to college I was thinking I’d maybe like to be a consultant with the police, visit the crime scenes and work on offender profiling, that sort of thing.” He gestures ambiguously with his hands.

“I used to chat a lot with the guy they used for that sort of thing, Charlie. He helped me plan how to go about getting what I wanted. My Dad never really seemed on board with it though, and I could help but feel he didn’t think I was up to it, or that he didn’t want to end up having to work with me…” Stiles pauses for a moment, his eyes trained on the table “Only then one day they were both at a crime scene that was supposed to have been cleared, looking for anything that could prove helpful and the killer came back with his gun and…”

Stiles’ mouth is dry, and he jumps slightly when he feels Derek’s hand come to rest hesitantly on his shoulder, the simple action catching him completely off guard. He sees something new in Derek’s eyes, and he thinks of all those people Derek has lost and hastily continues. “Dad was fine, the bullet just grazed him, but Charlie still has to use a wheelchair.”

Derek removes his hand, and leans back into his chair, as if suddenly aware of himself.

Stiles runs a hand through his hair and lets out a shuddering breath. “I realized then that my Dad didn’t want me involved because he couldn’t bear to lose me, not after Mom, so I changed my plans. I’m not 100% sure teaching is for me yet, but it’s stable employment while I try and figure out just what is.”

Derek nods again, his thumb moving absently over the handle of his now empty mug, and Stiles feels guilty.

“God, sorry. That was a conversation killer wasn’t it? You only asked what I taught and I’m rattling off half my life history!” He offers what he hopes is a cheery grin in way of apology. “No more, I promise!” He says, not really sure why he divulged all of that, truthfully.

Derek just shakes his head but that small smile is back. “I’m beginning to realize there is no such thing as a quick conversation with you,” He replies gruffly.

Stiles snorts, and hopes his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “I like to talk, it’s kind of my thing. In fact I’m thinking about going for the guidance counselor job at the school when Mrs. Jenkins goes on maternity leave. I’m kind of thinking it’s something I’d really enjoy. I, I saw the school counselor after mum died, and he really helped me with...stuff, and I did some placement work over the summer and it was good, rewarding I guess.” And there he goes again, rambling on about shit Derek probably doesn’t care about.

Derek just looks at him, his eyes a little sad for a moment before his expression shifts to slightly incredulous, “Would the kids manage to get a word in edgeways or…?”

“Hey!” Stiles fake pouts. “I might like to talk but I’ll have you know I’m a great listener thank you very much!”

Derek is smirking, the bastard. Stiles is about to call him on it when Laura let’s herself in and dumps the mountain of boxes onto the table announcing, “Grubs up!”

Right, Laura. Stiles feels kind of guilty that he’d almost forgotten they were waiting for her for a minute there. He shoots her a grin and glances at Derek, whose face is completely closed off as Laura looks at them both.

“Well tuck in losers,” she adds when neither of them makes a move.

They both grab for the top box at the same time, and Stiles hates the fact that he flushes when his fingers brush over Derek’s by mistake. He jerks his hand back, embarrassed. “Err sorry,” he mutters, then catches Laura giving him some full on side eye action as only she can. Great.

He looks at her intently, widening his eyes and moving his shoulders slightly to as much to say ‘what?’ and then she quirks an eyebrow right back at him that is quite clearly her saying ‘really Stiles?’ He scowls back, but is dragged away from this strange non-verbal conversation by the sound of Derek clearing his throat.

“This is yours,” and with that Derek is shoving the box he’d claimed into Stiles hands and reaching for the one below, which is clearly more to his liking as he pulls out a slice and starts eating. Stiles does the same, glad for a distraction. When he chances a look at Laura she’s just giving him this shit eating grin so he turns his attention back to his pizza.

“How’s your day been baby brother?” Laura questions around a mouthful of pizza.

Derek rolls his eyes at her. “Fine. Yours?”

Stiles finds it interesting that Derek seems more on guard in front of Laura. He looks tenser than he did when it was just them, but then she does seem to enjoy winding him up.

“Fine, apart from this little shit winding up my students.” She scowls at Stiles and pokes him in the arm.

“I...what did I do?” Stiles looks at her blankly, she never mentioned this earlier.

“Firstly, you made half of them hyper! They wouldn’t shut up talking about how much fun they’d had traumatizing Michael Jennings and Sam Clarke, all in the name of science. I got next to nothing out of the ones who’d been in your class all lesson, it was useless.”

Stiles feels the stupid satisfied grin spreading over his lips and does nothing to stop it.

“I can’t help it if I’m a more captivating teacher than you Laura,” He replies smugly and she hits him over the top of his head with the palm of her hand. He doesn’t miss Derek’s small grin at that comment.

“Yeah well, we can’t all get away with conducting social experiments in our classes dickhead.” She’s laughing though, and when Stiles snatches a glances at Derek he can see he’s laughing too, quietly, but he’s definitely laughing.

“And then…” Laura continues dramatically “I had to wade my way through a stack of exercise books that needed marking and all I kept finding were little hearts and the words ‘Mr Stilinski’, and some rather unsavory comments scribbled in the margin. Including…” and she narrows her eyes further at him “a note Sharon Mitchell clearly forgot was in there stating that you have ‘a delightfully dirty pair of lips’. You should not be allowed in the vicinity of teenage girls Mr Stilinski!”

Stiles lets out an embarrassed groan and puts his head in his hands “You’re making that up! Teenage girls didn’t want anything to do with me when I was at school, believe me!”

Laura grins wolfishly. “Well apparently they do now. You obviously grew up into a heartbreaker without even noticing.”

Stiles sucks on his bottom lip, chewing it slightly. “Nope, girls definitely still want nothing to do with me, neither do boys. It’s apparently a cross I’m going to have to continue to bear.” He waggles his eyebrows at her.

“We can’t all be physically blessed like you and your brother, some of us are just destined to be lesser mortals.” Because honestly, Stiles has never seen people like the Hales, they’re ridiculously attractive but in an understated kind of way, which somehow makes it worse.

He hears Derek make a small snorting sound and Laura just laughs.

“Whatever,” he tells her. “You have no idea how hard people like you two make it for the rest of society,” he sticks his tongue out at Laura and she ruffles his hair which makes him glare, and then Derek snorts again.

“And you can shut up snorty.” Stiles aims a soft kick at Derek’s legs under the table, “She might have the dazzling smile but Jesus have you seen yourself in a mirror lately?”

Derek’s face is kind of a picture; he looks like he doesn’t know quite what to do with it, and how to receive what Stiles has just said.

“Oh come on.” Stiles drawls gesturing at Derek in his entirety. “People must be all over that!”

Derek doesn’t say anything, his eyes dip to his pizza box and Stiles swears his cheeks color just slightly.

“Derek doesn’t make the best first impression, do you D Bear?” Laura offers and Derek’s eyes lock on her at the pet name and positively flame with contempt. Laura ignores him and continues, “You’ve met him Stiles, come on! That’s a pretty average first meet with Derek, in fact, he was actually quite social that night.”

Stiles thinks of Derek standing there earlier waiting for him with a cup of coffee, of Derek listening to his rambling, and placing that concerned hand on his shoulder and he suddenly feels angry. “If they judge him that quickly then it’s their loss,” is all he says, his eyes skit to Derek’s and away again.

And then Laura is looking at him like he’s just answered the million-dollar question correctly or promised to bring world peace.

When the pizza is all gone Laura raids the fridge and produces another coma inducing dessert that Derek eyes distastefully. “Looks like it’s all the more for us again Stiles,” her smile is indulgent and she places a doorstop sized wedge onto his plate.

\-----

Stiles is tired and can’t keep hiding his yawns. He knows he should go, but he’s enjoying this…this feeling of contentment that sits warm inside his stomach.

“Go home and sleep,” Laura commands him.

He sighs and gets to his feet, “Fine, I know when I’m not wanted.” He gives them both pitiful looks and Derek rolls his eyes and gets up from the table, busying himself at the counter.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Laura.” Stiles is putting on his shoes, which have been sitting at the side of his seat all evening. “And Derek I’ll…” he trails off “See you soon I guess, maybe?”

“Like you won’t be back next Monday,” Laura laughs. “You were the one who has already christened this Pizza Monday.” She catches Derek’s second eye roll and tells him, “No really, he’s given it a name, so it looks like we’re stuck with him.”

Derek turns back from the counter, a Tupperware box in his hands that looks to contain the remainder of their dessert, “I suppose we’ll cope”. He thrusts the box at Stiles, “Take this, if not she’ll only eat it all then complain when she gets fat.”

Laura hits Derek in the arm hard, but he just smirks at her and shoves her lightly.

Stiles is still laughing when he gets into his car and drives home.

\-----

The next day passes uneventfully and, once work is done, Stiles is happy to join Scott at the diner they used to frequent as kids. It has changed ownership since then, and has some kind of retro vibe going on these days, but the booth they used to use is still there even if the seats are different.

Scott grabs him in a bear hug, slapping him on the back and nearly cutting off his air supply, but it’s all good because he’s missed this. Scott’s huge dopey smile and his trusting eyes, and Stiles hates that they do this so rarely.

Scott talks a lot about Allison, which makes Stiles laugh. Sitting here with Scott talking like this makes him feel like he’s jumped back 6 years in time. He’s pleased they’re happy though; pleased they’ve got their own place and are settling down. Although it does leave him with a slightly hollow feeling in his chest, because he feels so far away from that.

They order food and talk about old times for a while before Scott asks him what it’s like being back at Beacon Hills High.

“Harris is still fucking there, can you believe it? He’s also still a total dickbag may I add,” Stiles grumbles. “Every time we’re both in the staffroom he just gives me evils and smirks that annoying little tight lipped smirk of his. Bastard.”

Scott laughs and pats Stiles on the arm in sympathy, “That sucks man.” Stiles nods emphatically in agreement.

“So, what about your personal life, nothing I need to know?” Scott questions, his eyes look bright and hopeful for him. Stiles feels bad for letting him down.

“Still as empty and boring as ever,” he mutters. “Clumps of tumbleweed included.”

Scott laughs. “There must be someone man? There’s always someone with you…normally someone totally out of your league, but someone none the less.”

Stiles kicks him under the table, hard.

“Says the guy punching way above his weight dude,” and Scott nods in acceptance and goes a little bit dreamy eyed as he thinks about Allison.

“Speaking of crushes out of my league, what’s Lydia up to these days?” Stiles asks.

“She’s still studying and being amazing at it,” Scott waves a hand in a slightly disinterested way. “Her and Allison are still good friends but she lives so far away they haven’t met face to face in forever.”

Stiles nods, it’s been a long time since he felt anything more than residual fondness for Lydia, but he’s kind of proud to hear she’s no longer afraid of embracing her brains, because the girl has skills.

“So there’s really no-one?” Scott pushes, and damn, Stiles thought he’d got him away from that line of questioning.

“No-one since college finished, and you know all about those dramas.” Stiles rolls his eyes. Scott laughs again and pats him on the shoulder. He’s not going to mention Derek, because it’s not important. So Stiles finds him hot and kind of funny, but he barely knows him, and he’s no intention of doing anything about it. It’ll pass.

They eat, drink milkshake, and talk about everything and nothing for a good while before finally paying and leaving.

Allison dropped Scott off at the diner, so Stiles offers to run him home and save him calling her out to come and get him. Scott slides into the passenger seat and Stiles turns his keys.

And the stupid shitty car doesn’t start.

“I miss my jeep,” Stiles laments.

“Because she was so reliable,” Scott grins

“That’s no way to talk about my woman man,” Stiles reprimands him, then sighs. “You might need to call Allison after all; I’d better call for a tow.”

Scott nods and makes a call while Stiles searches for a local garage on his phone and gives the closest one a call. He can’t believe this is happening, then he glances again at his car and realizes yes, yes he can.

They wait inside the car, windows rolled down, chatting absently for about 20 minutes before Scott says, “God, remember when you could fit an entire portion of curly fries in your mouth in one go, dude you were gross.”

Stiles snorts a laugh. “Oh please, I can still do that bro I just choose not to.”

“Bet you 10 dollars you can’t,” Scott taunts.

Three minutes later Scott returns from the diner with a portion of fries and Stiles prepares to win himself 10 dollars. It’s a mild evening, and the sun is low in the sky but still basking them in warmth, and Stiles figures life could be a lot worse as he tells Scott; “Prepare to be amazed and disgusted my friend, oh yeah!”

Stiles turns to face Scott in triumph, fries dangling from his mouth and his cheeks puffed out like a blowfish, and Scott laughs then elbows him in the side, “Your tow is here dude.”

Stiles ignores him and waves the empty carton at him. He attempts to say pay up, but fries start falling from his lips so he shuts up.

“Are you my damsel in distress?” A voice questions from just outside his window and Stiles’ eyes fly open wide and he turns to look, because surely it can’t be but, oh god, it is. Stiles groans inwardly and spins his head back to face Scott, chewing wildly and trying to shove the rest of the fries back into their box.

Clearing his throat he turns round again. “Hey Derek, fancy seeing you here.” Stiles draws out his vowels and attempts to look nonchalant as he meets Derek’s eyes, maybe he didn’t notice the fries…

Derek’s eyes are sparkling with amusement but his face his deadpan as he says, “You had a little something on your face, think you got it though,” and Stiles flops in his seat.

“I was almost at the end of my shift when your call came in, but then I recognized the description so I figured I could do one more pick up.” Derek flashes him a small grin and Stiles forgets some of his embarrassment and grins back.

“What, fourth hand crappy Toyota seeks youthful but strong pick up truck to offer assistance in her time of need?” He questions, raising an eyebrow. “Or did your spider senses just tingle?”

Derek rolls his eyes, “No, my boss said, and I quote ‘some guy with a ridiculous name, and who could talk the back legs off a donkey, just called lamenting the death of his Toyota’. It wasn’t hard to figure out it was you.”

Stiles scowls for a moment before giving it up. “So this is what you do? I was wondering…”

“No Stiles, I just pretend to be a mechanic for fun.” Derek leans in closer to the open window, and Stiles can see he has an oil stain on the left side of his neck and a slight smile twisting the corner of his mouth upwards, only then it falters and disappears into a blank mask. “I’ll need you both to get out of the car and get in the truck if you want a lift home. Although it’ll cost you extra,” his tone is flat.

Stiles blinks, his own smile falling off his face. “Oh, okay. Right.” He opens his door and clambers out slowly.

“Hey, Allison has parked on the road,” Scott pipes up waving his phone at Stiles and moving to stand next to him. “She’s happy to run you home,” he puts a hand on Stiles’ shoulder and starts pulling him away. “Just come with us, you don’t want to pay extra.”

Stiles nods, rendered dumb for a moment as he watches Derek’s hand clench on bonnet of his car.

“Sure, that’d be great.” Stiles sucks on his bottom lip for a moment, everything feels kind of awkward and he’s not sure why Derek seems angry. “Thanks Derek, call me and I’ll come and collect her when she’s ready, Laura’s got my number.”

Derek grunts and starts attaching the car to the truck, leaving Stiles to stick his hands deep in his pockets and follow Scott to where Allison is waiting for them.

Allison greets him warmly with a big wave as he slides into the back seat and thanks her for the ride. She giggles as Scott kisses her cheek, and Stiles wonders how the hell they’re still in the honeymoon phase like 6 years later.

They’ve just pulled away from the curb when Scott spins around in his seat to look over his shoulder at Stiles, “You lied to me Stiles!”

“I...what? When?” Stiles looks blank.

“You told me there was no-one you were interested in!” Scott grins

Stiles scratches the back of his head, “Yeah, and there isn’t.” His tongue presses against his bottom lip as he mentally wills that Scott will drop it.

“Stiles, I know that look you had back there!” And the smile on Scott’s face is from ear to ear “You’ve got it bad for Mr. Mechanic” he almost sings. "Who is he?"

Stiles keeps his voice neutral “Derek is just a friend. He’s not even that, he’s the brother of a friend.” He waves his hands at Scott, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, so it’s Derek is it? First name terms,” Scott is laughing.

Allison is smiling fondly at him in the front mirror as she asks, “was it his Lydia look?” and Stiles decides he hates them both.

\-----

Stiles has to take the bus to work the next day, which is delightfully shit. Firstly, it’s late, and secondly some of his pupils are on it, including Sharon Mitchell. After what Laura told him, he feels about ten shades of uncomfortable about the way she’s looking at him. She gets off at the same stop as him to catch the school bus the rest of the way in, and Stiles walks because he refuses to pay for a cab and no public buses are going that way.

Laura is already in the staff room when he arrives but heads for the door as soon as he’s through it with a tight smile, her camera in her hands, and doesn’t stop to talk. Harris just taps at his watch and smirks at Stiles, muttering, “Some things never change Stilinski,” before he leaves too. Stiles grabs a glass of water, downs it in one and races off to his classroom hoping his students haven’t set fire to it or something equally horrendous in his absence.

By lunch he wishes it was time to go home, because this day is not one he wants to last any longer than it has to. He waits for Laura and gestures for her to come join him by patting the seat beside him. She pauses for a moment before finally heading over.

“So I’m guessing you heard all about last night,” he groans. “I don’t suppose there’s any news on my car? I thought I might have heard from Derek this morning, but nothing so far. I had to take the bus this morning Laura, this bus. With Sharon Mitchell.” He gives a theatrical shudder.

Laura’s face is carefully neutral, “Yes, Derek did tell me about your car.” She pauses again, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “So, how did your date go last night? I didn’t know you were seeing someone.” She’s smiling, but it seems somehow forced and not quite Laura.

“Wha?” Stiles blinks “Um, I didn’t have a date last night Laura…”

She looks confused. “But Derek said…”

And suddenly Stiles cottons on, “Oh my god! No! That was Scott, known-him-so-long he’s-like-my-brother Scott! Definitely not a date! Oh god…”

“Oh!” She laughs then, loudly. “Sorry, I think my brother put two and two together and got five.”

Stiles is quiet for a moment, trying to process everything and fit the pieces together in his brain. Is that why Derek suddenly went weird last night, because he thought Stiles and Scott were on a date?

Laura is looking at him with concern now, “Stiles, what’s up?”

“Would it have offended Derek…I mean,” he takes a moment to get the words right, “Did the thought of me dating a guy weird him out?” He drums his fingers on his leg nervously. Most people seem pretty relaxed about sexuality these days, but Stiles knows a some still aren’t, which is their problem not his, but whatever.

Laura’s eyes flicker away and back again, and she seems to be taking her time and choosing her words carefully too when she replies, “Derek isn’t narrow minded about things like that, at all, I promise you.”

“Okay. Well, it wasn’t a date. I should be so lucky…not with Scott because that would be like incest, but no…” Stiles rubs a hand over his face. He could really do without nervous babbling.

“I’m not seeing anyone right now, but there is a 50/50 chance if I was it would be a guy.” He figures he might as well make that clear now, because he likes Laura and he really likes Derek, but if they can’t accept his choices then that’s something he wants to know now.

Laura just grins though and pokes him in the ribs, “Kind of figured that when you were perving over my baby brother Stiles,” She pats him on the shoulder, ignoring his wide-open mouth, which is already forming a protest.

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. I have to make a call before I go back to class, but I’ll see you later.” She throws him a wave over her shoulder and then she’s gone.

\-----

Stiles gets a call at around 3pm from an unknown number. He’s not teaching this period so he answers.

“Y’ello?”

“Stiles…Hi…I’ve fixed your car.”

Stiles smiles before he can stop himself. “Hey Derek, thanks so much, really appreciate it.” He sinks into his chair, putting his feet up on his desk and crossing his legs.

“Well it’s what I do, so…”

Stiles can almost see the shrug and eye roll from here.

“I um… Sorry if I was a bit…abrupt last night, long day.”

“Hey don’t worry about it big guy.” Oh dear god, did he really just call him that? “So can I come and pick it up after work? I’ll have to get the bus over but I could be there for say, five thirty?” There's a brief pause on the line before Derek replies.

“I could um, always come and pick you up? From the school and you could collect it and drive yourself home?”

“I donno, will you charge me for it?” Stiles, spins himself from side to side in his chair. He is being kind of unfair, but he still doesn’t get exactly why Derek was a bit of an ass last night, long day or not. If Laura says he has no problems with Stiles’ sexuality, then really, what the hell was the problem?

“What? Oh, no…” Derek seems to remember what Stiles is referring to and his voice changes tone to somewhat huffy, “Or you could just get the bus over here if you prefer, whatever.”

“No no, I’ll be outside the school at 4:30pm, so I’ll see you then,” and then he hangs up, trying very hard not to think about how cute and awkward Derek sounds on the phone. He fails.

No, he can’t fail at this. He thinks about Scott and Allison laughing at him last night and, while he knows they were only ribbing him, Stiles can’t allow himself to start thinking of Derek like that. He just can’t. Laura is his only local friend right now, and if he keeps a grip of himself he’ll be able to add Derek to that list, which would be awesome because he finds him funny and fascinating, and would really like to spend more time with him…and that train of thought isn’t really stopping him from thinking inappropriately.

Stiles buries his head in his hands for a moment. “Friends,” he tells himself sternly. “Just friends is good, you don’t need to set yourself another unobtainable goal and make yourself miserable. You are done with that, for good, remember?” He remembers.

Lydia was the first example of how much that scenario blows. Then at college there had been Ben and that had been 7 hideous months, followed by Sarah…and then finally Daniel had asked him for coffee and he’d realized how much _easier_ it was when you wait for someone who likes you to come along and make a move, rather than pining after those who are never going to want you back. Sure it hadn’t lasted forever, but it had been good while it had, and Stiles hadn’t been too sad about it when it finished. Nice and easy.

\-----

Stiles checks his watch; it’s 4:35pm, that makes Derek officially late. He’s is sitting on a cold concrete step, lamenting the lack of sunshine, eyes scanning the parking lot for any signs of movement. He sees a couple of students sneaking somewhere they shouldn’t be, seeing as they should have gone home already, and gets to his feet begrudgingly to investigate when he hears it; a roaring sound coming from his right. It’s a motorbike, and it comes skidding to a halt at the bottom of the steps in a small shower of asphalt.

Stiles knows his jaw drops inelegantly, but Jesus fucking Christ. Derek is sat on the slick, black, probable death trap of a motorbike. Of course he is. His undone leather jacket hugging his broad shoulders, his helmet in his hand and a smirk on his face.

“Somebody likes making an entrance,” Stiles remarks, attempting to unlock his jaw. Derek just raises an eyebrow and looks a little bit pleased with himself. “That’s great and all, but don’t you have a car?”

Derek just shrugs, “Laura uses the car, and I have access to the work truck most of the time, and when I don’t I have this.” He pats the bike; well more like strokes it if Stiles is being honest.

Stiles is hovering at the top of the steps, not really sure what to do with himself, when Derek let’s out a put upon sigh and asks, “Are you getting on or what?”

_Or what_ Stiles’ mind supplies, _very much or what_. There is no way this can end well. “Not really a big fan of motorbikes,” is all he says.

Derek’s face is contorting with a look of annoyance and disbelief. “Just get on the damn bike Stiles.”

Stiles is grumbling the whole time it takes him to walk down the steps. “Just so you know, as the Sheriff’s son I have heard more than enough motorbike accident horror stories to last me for a life time. If you kill me, he will be so mad by the way. I’m talking fetching his gun and hunting you down mad, so just…drive safely yeah?”

“I’m not going to kill you,” Derek says flatly, shoving a helmet at Stiles. “Put it on and hold on tight, I don’t want you falling off the back or something equally ridiculous, not if you have a gun toting over protective father.”

Stiles scowls and shoves on his helmet, flipping Derek off at the comment about his Dad. It takes him a moment to swing his leg over and get himself seated as comfortably as possible. The seat is narrow and, in his opinion, too small for two grown men. Stiles pauses for a moment, not entirely sure what exactly he’s supposed to ‘hold on tight’ to. Jacket, hips, back, shoulders? This is not helpful in any way given the problems he’s been having keeping his thoughts in check.

And then Derek is kicking the bike to life and they’re moving off fast, and Stiles is grabbing anything he can in all honestly. He swears he feels Derek’s back shake slightly with laughter as he presses himself against it and swears loudly, “You asshole!”

After a couple of minutes of clinging to Derek like a limpet, Stiles forces himself to unlock his death grip. He keeps his hands wrapped around Derek and pressed against his chest though, and he’s still pressed pretty closely against Derek’s back. It feels too intimate, and Stiles is pretty sure he’s blushing slightly under his helmet a he tries very hard not to think about their proximity or the feel of the thin fabric of Derek’s t-shirt under his fingers. Maybe he should have grabbed hold of his jacket instead.

The truth is, after getting over his initial fear, it’s actually kind of awesome. The air is cold, and he can feel the sting of it through his too thin trousers as it rushes over them, but it's invigorating.

The streets speed by, his fingers reflexively gripping at Derek’s shirt when they turn a corner or speed up. It’s nice, but that’s ok because riding a motorbike with someone is totally something you do with a friend, so he’s allowed to enjoy it, right? He can tell Derek is totally at ease with the bike, and his confidence leeches into Stiles, and he no longer fears instant grizzly death. He finally moves his hands to Derek’s hips and puts a bit of space between them, trying to see exactly where they are.

Derek is slowing down and they swerve off the main street and down a small side road before coming to a stop outside the garage.

Stiles lets out a small breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, and realizes he should probably get off. He should also probably let go of Derek’s hips; in fact he should definitely do that.

Derek rips his helmet off and hangs it over a handlebar before dismounting gracefully and turning to give Stiles an expectant look. Stiles kind of hates him for it, because there is no way he’s ever been that graceful.

“Are you going to stay on there all day? Only I thought you wanted your car back…”  
Stiles pulls his own helmet off and runs a hand through his hair. Derek’s looks ruffled so he can only imagine what his is doing.

“I yeah, right. I most definitely do.” Stiles swings a leg over the bike and only wobbles slightly. He would hope Derek didn’t see, but he knows the gods aren’t that kind because he catches the other man’s smirk.

“And wonders will never cease, the bike didn’t kill you.” Derek is walking away as he speaks, but Stiles still gives his back a glare.

“Oh I trusted the bike, just not the driver,” Stiles informs him, his voice full of snark.

Derek just looks over his shoulder, “That why you were clinging on so tightly?”

Stiles tells himself he will not blush, or stutter, or do anything embarrassing. Instead he marches past Derek and asks, “So, how much do I owe you for the car?” ignoring that comment completely.

Derek heads into the office and Stiles can hear him talking to someone before he returns with the invoice and a card machine.

“I thought it was going to be more than that, you’re a life saver!” Stiles grins, all his annoyance at Derek totally forgotten. “What’s that part all about though? Have you made a mistake?” he points to the bottom of the invoice just above the total.

Derek just shrugs and looks at his feet, “Discretionary discount, figured I owed you for being a bit of a dick last night and my boss said it was ok so…Just don’t expect it every time that heap of crap fails you.”

“Aw man, you didn’t have to do that, but thank you,” Stiles grins and puts his arm around Derek’s shoulder, ignoring the car jibe, because even Stiles knows it really is a heap of crap. “Pays to have friends in all the right places clearly!”

Derek just rolls his eyes as he shoves the card machine at Stiles so he can enter his pin.

“You busy?” Stiles questions, “Or could you spare the time for a coffee? I figure one good turn deserves another.” He feels justified in asking, because coffee is totally something friends do, and so he isn’t breaking his own rules, not really.

Derek rubs a hand across the back of his neck, “Got another car to deal with before I can clock off. Owner wants it back first thing in the morning, so I’m staying late tonight.”

Stiles tries not to feel too crestfallen. “Oh, fair enough. Maybe another time...or not,” he adds to be safe, because Derek’s face looks kind of constipated.

Derek just nods and hands him his keys telling him, “Drive safely” and with that Derek walks briskly away towards another door and into what Stiles presumes is the workshop. Derek pauses with a hand resting on the doorframe, but doesn't look back over his shoulder as he adds, “Another time,” and then disappears from view.

Stiles doesn’t grin like an idiot. He doesn’t.

\-----

Stiles drives himself towards home, in the end deciding to stop and get a coffee in a small shop he’s been passing regularly since moving back home. It’s not empty, but it’s not too busy either, which is just how he likes coffee shops to be. He queues behind a woman and her child, eyeing the board behind the counter to see what he fancies.

“Stiles?” A female voice questions.

He looks around on hearing his name, searching for the owner of that voice which is vaguely familiar. He finally realizes it was the blonde girl behind the counter.

“It is you!” She grins at him before biting her bottom lip and looking unsure, “You don’t remember me, do you?”

Stiles searches his brain for a few frantic minutes and is just about to admit defeat when it comes back to him. “Sure I do! Erica, right? You were in my year at school”.

The blonde nods and smiles, so he knows he must be right.

“I heard you were back round these parts again. What can I get you?”

Stiles had almost forgotten the small town feel of Beacon Hills, and how everyone seems to know _everything_. Being the son of the Sheriff has always exacerbated that situation, so he shouldn’t be surprised Erica knew he was back.

“I’ll take a regular caramel late please.” He’s feeling in the mood for a serious sugar boost right now.

Eric gets to work. Stiles notes she looks different these days; at school she was always very plain, but she’s wearing make up and her hair is more styled, although she still has some slight acne that she’s done her best to cover.

She pauses for a moment, after she taken his money and given him his coffee, “Stiles, here’s my number. I figure you probably don’t know that many people round here these days, so, if you want to maybe catch up over a coffee then that’d be great.” She flashes him a quick, slightly shy smile that lasts a bit too long before she turns her attention to the guy who had been queuing behind him.

Stiles wonders if she’d have given him her number if Derek had been able to join him for a coffee, or if she’d have given it to him instead. Because really, there’s nothing like standing next to a hot guy to ruin your chances of pulling. And Derek is certainly a hot guy. Sighing and scrubbing his hand over the back of his neck Stiles takes his drink to a table to grab a couple of sachets of sugar, and puts Erica’s number in his pocket.

If he had any sense he’d take her up on it, she always seemed nice from what he knew of her, and she’s pretty. Even more to the point, she actually seems interested, judging on the little wave and grin she’s giving him as he lets himself out of the café. A less helpful but infinitely more hopeful part of his brain echoes back Derek’s voice saying ‘another time’ and he shuts that train of thought down right away.

\-----

Stiles’ new life has become full of routines already. He’s now six weeks into the term and everything feels familiar. He works all week, does lesson planning on Saturdays, spends Sundays with his Dad, and of course visits the Hales on Monday nights.

Mondays might have become his favorite day of the week, something he never thought he’d hear himself say. He’s been over there each week so far, and things feel comfortable and relaxed. He still finds himself staring a bit at Derek when he’s not looking, but he’s given up on kidding himself he can stop it. He hasn’t done anything embarrassing so far.

Well, there was the time when Laura gave him her key before she went into the pizza place and told him to let himself in and get the kettle on because she needed coffee stat. That in itself wasn’t embarrassing, the embarrassing part was walking into the kitchen to find Derek staring at him, wet from a shower and wearing only a white fluffy towel. Derek had actually blushed, not in the way Stiles does i.e. turning beet red, but his cheekbones had flushed and he’d snapped, “You aren’t supposed to be here yet!” While looking like a rabbit caught in headlights, before racing past Stiles and up the stairs. It had taken Stiles a while to move from the spot.

Laura had laughed so hard she’d nearly snorted coffee out of her nose when Stiles had told her before whispering “Oh D Bear” to herself in a fond tone.

Derek came downstairs again 15 minutes later, fully clothed in dark trousers and a maroon Henley, and started eating his pizza in the kind of aggressive manner than exuded ‘don’t you dare mention it ever again’ so Stiles had eaten his pizza and tried to stop picturing it… he’s still seeing that image on the back of his eyelids when he goes to bed more often than he probably should. It really was glorious.

Stiles has noticed that gradually Derek is talking more these days, properly contributing to the conversation rather than just supplying answers, and Laura is talking a lot less. She’s always smiling though and looks happy enough, so Stiles figures they’re all just relaxing into themselves now, and that Laura only used to talk so much to fill the silences. It's nice getting to know them both properly. He sometimes feels like a squirrel the way he hoards away the information Derek provides, but somehow each piece seems like a hard won prize that deserves to be remembered.

\-----

It’s a Sunday in early November, and Stiles is standing in his sardine can sized kitchen quite proud that he’s actually managed to make pie. He’s not known for being a raving success in the kitchen, but college seems to have taught him enough about cooking that he can follow a relatively simple recipe. He knows his limits (he bought the pastry) but it looks good if he does say so himself. It’s Sunday evening and he’s spend the day alone because his Dad had to work, so it doesn’t really matter if it’s taken him way longer than it should to assemble the thing.

Stiles has just put it in a box when boxes he hears his phone ringing. He is a bit surprised when he sees Scott’s name flashing up on his caller id, he only had an email from his yesterday, and he knows from the content of that email that today is Scott and Allison’s date night. “Hey McCall, what have I done to deserve this privilege? Allison hasn’t suddenly seen sense and dumped you has she?”

“Dude, low blow!” Scott huffs and Stiles swears he hears a muffled female laugh.

“Sorry,” Stiles amends, “But seriously, what’s up?” He can’t imagine anything being important enough to interrupt Scott from spending quality time with Allison.

“Umm, well, we were just wondering how things were going with you-”

“-And Derek,” Allison interjects.

Stiles sighs, “I’m on speaker phone aren’t I?” They both laugh and he takes that as a yes. “There is no me and Derek guys. We’re just friends okay?” Kind of good friends who meet up once a week with a chaperone and eat pizza.

“He seemed a bit of a grumpy bastard to me,” Scott tells him. “You can do better anyway.”

“Oh, so you are friends now,” Allison chirps up.

“Allison, zip it. Yes, ok, we’re friends now, that is all. And Scott, he’s not normally like that, he’s a really nice guy ok? He just doesn’t tend to make the best first impressions," Stiles laughs. "Oh god I never told you did I, this is hilarious; Laura told me that when he saw you in my car he thought we were on a date.”

“He what?!?” Scott’s voice is ridiculously indignant and Stiles can hear a string of question marks and exclamation points in it.

“I know, I _know_. It’s a repugnant thought; like you could ever score with a hot piece of ass like me, but…”

“Hey, wait! He was fine with you to start with wasn’t he?” Scott questions.

“Yeah, when he arrived he seemed good,” Stiles replies, remembering the way Derek had smiled and him and leaned towards the window, he can still remember that streak of dirt he'd had on his neck that he'd really wanted to wipe off with his thumb. “Scott, I can practically hear the cogs in your brain creaking from over exertion. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking, he was all Dr Jekyll, then he saw me and thought we were dating, and then he went all Mr Hyde, maybe he didn’t like _me_?”

“What? Why would he dislike you before even speaking to you? Unless he has a fear of irregular jawboned men or something…Behinds, this was weeks ago, forget about it,” Stiles tries to stop himself from laughing at his friend.

He hears Allison squeak down the line going, “Oh my god, that’s too cute,” and then Scott making a ‘huh’ sound and Allison concluding, “Stiles, he was jealous!”

Stiles gapes at the phone “Don’t be ridiculous…that’s just…no, I mean…he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have been…” he takes a moment to get himself together enough to form his words.

“Do you really think that could have been it, or are you just saying this in some ill fated but well meant attempt to boost my self esteem?”

“Well I don’t know him, so it’s hard to say, but I’d say it’s a pretty big possibility,” she tells him, and Stiles can practically hear her smile from here.

“I’m not having this conversation with either of you,” he groans. “Now fuck off and leave me alone, oh, and enjoy date night” with that he hangs up.

Stiles needs to think about this, but not with Scott and Allison attempting to offer assistance. So, he does what he does best; he gets a notepad and a pen, a he sits down to write an objective account of Derek’s behavior. Chewing on his pen lid, he jots down observations about their interactions. He tries not to think about how they made him feel, instead focusing on any little details about Derek he can recall. He finds it oddly cathartic to be looking at it from afar, and rather informative.

About thirty minutes later, Stiles has come to the conclusion that it is entirely feasible that Derek could be interested in him, and he’s not entirely sure what to do with that bit of information. He puts his notepad down and runs a hand through his hair. He’s not going to get ahead of himself, but he’s certainly going to be paying a lot more attention to Derek’s body language from now on. Starting with dinner at the Hale house tomorrow night.

\-----

Stiles stays after hours to get some marking done, because the sad truth is that when he’s in his flat he has the lure of TV and the internet, and that isn’t conductive to results, so he finds it more productive staying in his boring empty classroom and plough on.

Laura left a while ago, it feels like hours. Stiles knows he should do more, he’d vowed to stay until 7, but it’s 6:15 and he has had it with this shit if he’s honest. Pizza is calling him. Operation: Observe the shit out of Derek Hale is also calling him. He packs up and almost runs to the car park. He is going home, collecting his pie, and then doing some fieldwork.

\-----

Laura is wearing her coat and a scarf when she opens the door, which instantly throws him.

“Oh shit! Stiles, sorry! I should have called, I was going to but then…sorry! Only, there’s been a change in plans…” she’s talking a lot faster than usual.

Stiles holds up a container in his hands “But I brought pie” he laughs, a little confused. Laura looks at him guiltily.

“I’m so sorry Stiles, it’s just I’m going on a date. It was a total last minute thing…and I was going to call you, but I thought I’d have time to do it when I’d finished getting ready, I didn’t realize you’d be here so early,” she makes her eyes large and apologetic and turns the Hale charm up to eleven. Stiles shakes his head and steps backwards off the step.

“No, of course. No worries Laura I was only joking. You go! Go forth and date!” He swallows the ball of disappointment in his stomach, because he’d being looking forward to tonight all day, he’d even baked a damn pie and psyched himself up for some super stealthy behavioral analysis.

She grins at him and grabs her keys from the dish on the table just inside the porch.

“I’ll just take my pie and be on my way.” He manages a smile, turning on his heels to head back to his car and an evening alone in his flat, at least he can gorge himself on pie. Maybe he’ll call in on his Dad.

“No no no! Where are you going?” she barks at him. “I mean, you should stay. I promised you food,” her voice is softer now.

Stiles laughs, “It was only pizza Laura, I think I can manage to pick one up on my way home.”

She continues talking as she steps out onto the porch. “There is lasagna in the oven, it will be done soon. You should stay and have some!”

Stiles hesitates, because it’s not like it’s not a tempting offer. He’s hungry, and he wants to see Derek, but still…this is new. He’s used to having Laura around to act as a buffer. “What, without you?”

“Why not?” Laura arches an eyebrow in a way that seems to almost issue a challenge.

“I umm…I don’t really think Derek would want me crowding his space eating his lasagna,” Stiles mumbles. Or would he?

“Bribe him with your pie,” Laura replies flatly, skipping past him and backing Stiles up against the still open front door.

“You really think free pie would be enough to cut it?” Stiles laughs nervously. _Would it? Would Derek mind an evening of just the two of us? I certainly wouldn’t._ Stiles is simultaneously beginning to think he really needs to get in the car and go home and that he should snatch Laura’s hand off and get in there.

“Depends on the pie,” an amused voice responds.

Stiles almost jumps out of his skin, because Jesus, where the hell did he come from? Derek is standing behind him, a pleased expression on his face, like he enjoys giving Stiles cardiac episodes.

“It’s umm, apple. Tart Apple pie,” Stiles replies, schooling his face into a more controlled expression before turning to face Derek, and attempting to get his heart back under control.

Derek’s head tilts slightly. “That’s…my favorite actually.”

There is something so disarming about his expression in that moment that the words slip out before Stiles can stop them.

“I know. Laura mentioned it, so I thought…” his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip nervously “I mean, I um, figured if I was crashing your space again I should at least provide a dessert you actually like.” He kind of wants the ground to swallow him right now, because Derek is just looking at him, and he doesn’t know what that look means.

“Well that’s that settled then boys,” Laura announces, pecking Stiles on the cheek and doing the same to Derek. “Enjoy yourselves, don’t wait up for me, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” And then she’s bounding down the driveway to her car, giving them one last grin as she gets in and drives off.

Derek heads back into the house and Stiles hovers on the step for a moment, still not really sure if this is a good idea.

“Stiles, just get in here.”

Right. So he’s staying then, it is official. Stiles closes the door and heads towards the kitchen, but it’s empty. He can hear the sound of a TV coming from another room and so he follows it until he finds Derek. He’s never seen their lounge before, and for some reason that makes him laugh. Derek just quirks an eyebrow at him and Stiles shakes his head, “nothing, just ignore me.”

“Would that I could,” Derek mutters, sitting down on a slightly battered looking couch.

It’s obvious this room is used a lot, and Stiles wonders why he’s never been in it. Derek seems to read his face

“Laura likes to eat and entertain in the kitchen. Mom always said it was better manners…” Derek trails off suddenly; like he’s a bit surprised he said that.

Stiles feels his throat constrict slightly, but he smiles fondly as he says, “Mine used to say the same.”

Derek doesn’t look at him, but he does smile faintly. “Sit.” he uses his eyes and a tilt of his head to gesture at the space next to him on the couch.

Stiles had been pondering the merits of sitting in the chair across the room to avoid temptation but, now Derek has invited him to sit next to him, sitting across the room would seem kind of rude. So, Stiles sits while wishing the couch was bigger. He’s just not good with being in such close proximity to Derek and not touching if he’s honest with himself, and touching is a bad, bad idea until he can work out exactly what’s going on here.

Derek is just looking at him again, his expression a mixture of confusion, unease and concern. “You’re very quiet tonight,” is all he says.

“Didn’t think I’d ever hear you complain about that,” Stiles laughs, forcing himself to relax. He can do this; they’ve spent time alone together before, it’s fine. It’s a meal with a friend, not a date, that’s all he has to remember. _It could be a date_ his mind interjects helpfully. _No, it is not a date_ , whatever Derek may or may not feel about him, this happened by chance not planning. It has however provided him the perfect opportunity to test the waters a little.

Derek looks like he wants to say something, but instead he goes back to staring at the TV.

“So, are we eating in here like total slobs and flouting Laura’s rules?” Stiles grins, “Because I’ve had a bitch of a day, and would be totally on board with that.”

Derek nods in confirmation.

“Excellent!” Stiles slips his shoes off and settles into the sofa, stealing the remote control from Derek’s hands and beginning to channel flick.

“What are you doing?” Derek doesn’t look impressed, but Stiles just shoots him a smug smirk.

“I’m the guest! I get to pick what we’re watching, and I say we’re not watching a program about cars. There must be something else on.” Stiles knows he’s pushing his luck, but still, he’s curious how far he can push it.

“I happen to like programs about cars,” Derek replies dryly, but he doesn't take the remote back.

“Don’t you see enough of them all day?” Stiles theatrically pouts, “And don’t you have lasagna to serve me? I have to say, Laura is a much more attentive host you know…”

Derek glowers for a long minute, gets to his feet, and then throws a cushion at Stiles before heading into the kitchen. Stiles just laughs.  
\-----

By the time Derek returns with two plates balanced in one hand and a four pack of beer in the other Stiles has found some program on serial killers and is watching avidly.

“No” Derek says, shoving his plate at him. “Absolutely not. Just keep flicking”

Stiles huffs but does as he’s told. “Maybe a film?” He suggests around a mouthful of lasagna. “This is so good by the way. No wonder you keep Laura around when she can cook like this”

“Well, it’s no vat of curly fries but…”

Stiles cringes, “I freaking knew you’d bring that up again at some point. It was a bet ok? An old joke between two friends…” He chews on his bottom lip, wondering how to test Alison’s theory regarding Derek’s behavior that night.

“Spit it out,” Derek demands, after a couple of minutes have passed with neither of them speaking and Stiles still fidgeting, although his voice carries no aggression. “There’s obviously something bothering you.”

“No it’s nothing, it’s just,” Stiles pauses and steels himself, “I don’t know what I did to make you such a pissy pants that night, that’s all.” He eyes Derek carefully, trying to gauge every minute reaction.

Derek exhales and runs a hand through his hair, his shoulders tensing slightly. He’s not looking away, but he’s not meeting Stiles’ gaze either. “I told you, it wasn’t you. I’d just had a long day.”

Bullshit is Stiles’ first thought, but he keeps that to himself, because now he’s really focusing he can see Derek looks embarrassed and a little ashamed. “Okay, as long as I really didn’t offend you in some way…” He pauses again, “Because…” And he can’t really think of an appropriate way to end that sentence.

“Spending time with you like this is nice,” is what he settles on. “Even if you do have shocking taste in TV programs,” he adds lightly, wanting to cover his back and make sure this still sounds like a light and breezy conversation and not the beginnings of a declaration of love.

Derek meets his eyes then for a moment before looking back at the TV. “Likewise,” is all he says. And what is Stiles supposed to do with that?

They can’t decide on what film to watch. Derek thinks he’s droll and suggests ‘The Fast and The Furious’ just to piss him off, so Stiles countered with a long list of psychological thrillers. Derek soon runs out of Fast & Furious films, and Stiles thinks himself the winner until Derek suggests Disney’s Cars and Stiles laughs until he chokes on his lasagna and has to take a big swill of his beer. He only manages to stop when he finds himself distracted by how good laughter looks on Derek.

They settle on none of the above and stick on Die Hard, because it’s the one film all men seem to be able to consent to being awesome.

Stiles forces himself to get up off the sofa and fetch the pie, because he didn’t make it just to waste it. When he comes back with two bowlfuls he hands Derek his and sits back down, decidedly closer to Derek than before, allowing his knee to knock against his casually.

Derek tenses for a moment but then relaxes, knocking Stiles’ knee back in return, and Stiles files that little bit of information away for later inspection.

Derek is devouring the pie at an alarming rate and making little noises of satisfaction, and Stiles feels proud that he managed to make pie that is not only edible but also apparently delicious.

“Enjoying it are we?” Stiles grins smugly.

Derek stops with a spoonful half way to his mouth, “I’ve had worse.” His voice is deadpan but the small smile on his face betrays him.

Stiles nudges into his shoulder with force. “Guess you won’t be requiring a second slice then, I may as well take the rest home with me…” Stiles makes to rise like he’s leaving.

Derek’s hand is on his thigh in a second, pushing him back down. “Don’t you dare,” he seems to check himself because the hand is gone in an instant. “You can leave, but you’re not taking that pie with you”.

Stiles meets Derek’s eyes, jutting his chin out defiantly “If the pie stays so do I. Make your choice”.

Derek is trying not to smile; Stiles can see the corners of his mouth twitching. He lets out a put upon sigh, “I suppose your company is a small price to pay for pie. You can stay”

“Excellent choice,” Stiles grins lazily, stretching out and putting his feet up on the coffee table.

Derek bats at his knee, “Feet off the table!”

“Oh come on man!” Stiles whines. “I’ve taken my shoes off, I can’t fully relax unless I stretch my legs out. It’s just one of my rules.”

Derek’s expression is unrelenting. “I made it, so I get to say whose feet go on it.”

Stiles blinks and looks at the table again. “You made that?” He looks around the room. “You make anything else in here?” So Derek is into carpentry, another fact for him to add to his growing collection of Derek Hale trivia.

Derek points to a bookcase up the corner of the room.

Stiles lets out a low whistle to show he’s impressed. “Nice. Although my version of storing books is way more fun than using a bookcase.”

Derek looks like he’s going to regret it, but he plays along and asks, “Oh?”

“My books are kept in a pile akin to a glorified version of jenga. Makes selecting a good one all the more exciting…”

“And you enjoy that?” Derek raises a skeptical eyebrow.

Stiles laughs, “Well, truthfully I spent my furniture budget before I got round to buying one, and since then I keep forgetting.” He waves a hand, “I’ll get round to it sometime.”

Derek just shakes his head, “Your feet are still on my table Stiles…”

Stiles looks down at his toes and wiggles them, “Yes Derek, yes they are.” Derek brings out the scowl Stiles hasn’t in a good few weeks but now it only makes him laugh. “Oh my god, fine,” he lets out an exaggerated sigh of displeasure and removes his feet.

The film ends and Laura isn’t home, but it’s only just gone 9pm. Stiles knows he should probably go home, but he really doesn’t want to. He chances a sideways glance at Derek as the TV screen goes black, and finds Derek is doing exactly the same thing.

The moment seems to stretch on before Derek finally speaks, his voice a little hoarse. “So Die Hard 2 then…or do you need to…”

“No, no,” Stiles smiles, “Die Hard 2 sounds pretty good to me”

Derek gets up to find the DVD. “I normally wait up for Laura anyway, so…”

Stiles can’t tell if that’s an excuse or if it’s true. He thinks of how protective he is over his Dad, and wonders if Derek feels the same about his sister. He must have some other friends, but Stiles has never really heard him talk about them.

“If she’s late home you should totally ground her by the way.” Stiles grins, “I bet she takes advantage of your sweet nature.”

Derek throws the empty DVD case at him, but there’s no real force behind it and Stiles catches it and sets it down on the coffee table. He’s considering having another go at putting his feet on it when Derek, sliding back into his seat beside him, leans in close and mutters down his ear, “Don’t even think about it,” and Stiles swallows hard and wets his lips, because Jesus _fuck_. He is not equipped to deal with this.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Stiles manages eventually. It hasn’t escaped his notice that they seem to be sitting closer since Derek’s return. Derek is now leaning into his shoulder slightly, his arm laying casually along the back of the sofa like a 16 year old preparing to make a move on date night. Stiles decides to go for broke and shifts himself on the sofa until his legs are looped over the arm and his shoulder and back are pressed against Derek, his head resting on Derek’s shoulder. “Well don’t just sit there, press play,” he orders, projecting a level of nonchalance he certainly isn’t feeling.

Derek actually does what he’s told, and the film starts.

Stiles wonders if Derek is this familiar with other acquaintances. Is he just a naturally touchy feely kind of guy? He certainly doesn’t give off that vibe to start with if that’s the case.

“Do you do this a lot?” Stiles questions, looking up at Derek’s jaw and regretting it because he kind of has the urge to lick.

Derek’s eyes flick down to meet his. “This?” It sounds like a loaded question, and his eyebrows are full of sass. Stiles finds it ridiculous how eyebrows can be that sassy if he’s honest. Stiles puffs out a breath of air.

“This,” he waves his hands around to gesture at the two of them in general. He nearly adds ‘spending time with friends’, but decides against it. He’s doesn’t want to put the word friend out there as a description of this, whatever this is, not when he’s trying to work out exactly what’s going on here. “You and Laura must hang out with people other than lil’ old me?”

“Well Laura is out on a date, so obviously she does…” Derek replies dryly.

“And you?” Stiles pushes.

“I have friends, acquaintances. I’m not a complete social reject Stiles. I can tolerate human interaction,” Derek huffs.

Stiles wants to say _but do you do this with them?_ but he refrains. “I know you’re not a social reject Derek. I also know if you can tolerate me you can tolerate anyone, so kudos to you.” His smile is a bit slack, but he’s getting tired, proven by the yawn he makes, and the beer probably hasn’t helped.

The yawn is loud, and he almost doesn’t hear when Derek says, “I think it’s safe to say I more than tolerate you,” quietly and seemingly to himself. Then louder he says, “I’m not a troglodyte either before you start, I cooked you bloody lasagna.”

That gets Stiles’ attention, and his eyes flick up and lock on Derek's face. “What? But Laura said...and when I commented earlier you didn’t say anything!”

Derek laughs, “Laura can’t cook for shit. Why do you think we have so many take out leaflets in the kitchen draw?”

Stiles is still trying to organize his thoughts. Had Derek been cooking lasagna for all or them tonight, for a change, before Laura made plans? _He said he cooked for me…_ was that just a term of expression, or had Derek specifically cooked it for Stiles?

“It was good,” is all Stiles says, taking a moment to regroup. “If I’d known you could cook like that I’d have made you invite me over for dinner a hell of a lot sooner, screw Laura and her pizza.”

Derek is looking down at him, and Stiles thinks how easy it would be to just push himself upwards slightly and press his lips to Derek’s, but he doesn’t. Stiles wants to make sure he’s reading things right, because if not making a move would only fuck everything up monumentally. He sucks on his bottom lips slightly, worrying at it with his teeth until Derek looks like he’s going to say something. He feels his breath catch in expectation, and holds Derek’s gaze, but Derek’s face seems to lose it’s resolve and then he’s staring back at the TV and running a hand through his hair, and Stiles is left feeling frustrated.

“Well, if this evening has taught me anything, it’s that you are clearly super talented with your hands…” Stiles freezes after he says it, because his brain to mouth filter really dropped the ball there. He can feel Derek tense beside him and shift uncomfortably. When he chances a quick look Derek’s jaw is tight but his eyes are something else entirely, which is all kinds of interesting.

“What with the furniture assembly and the cooking on top of the mechanics,” Stiles adds weakly. Derek just nods, still staring anywhere but at Stiles.

They watch in silence for a while, but after the awkwardness subsides, it’s companionable. Stiles isn’t really paying the film all that much attention, he is getting more tired by the minute, and Derek doesn’t seem to be fairing any better, he keeps rubbing at his eyes in a way that is far to adorable to be allowed.

Stiles knows he should get up and go home really. He has work tomorrow, and it’s not like he doesn’t know how the film ends. Moving seems like it would be criminal right now though, so he stays where he is, feeling his eyelids drooping and his body slumping further down the couch, his head slipping from the top of Derek’s shoulder towards his chest where he can feel the rise and fall of his lungs lulling him closer to sleep.

He tries to fight it and stay awake, but he’s in that state, somewhere between sleep and awake, where he knows he should stay awake but he can’t honestly remember why. Everything feels fuzzy and warm and right, and consciousness is a lost cause really.

He thinks he can feel fingers carding tentatively through his hair, but he’s so far gone he suspects he’s actually just dreaming. He really hopes he doesn't talk in his sleep right now.

\-----

Stiles awakes to a blinding white light and a strange sound, his eyes squeezing tightly shut for a moment as he tries to work out what the fuck is actually happening. He attempts to bury his face further into his pillow, only to find he’s not sleeping on his pillow. His fingers close around fabric and he feels whatever he’s sleeping on go rigid. Oh god, he’s sleeping on Derek isn’t he?

He opens his eyes to see Laura standing over him with her camera in hand and a grin on her lips to rival the Cheshire cat.

“Oh my god, you two are adorable. I knew it! Although next time totally get a room.”

“Wha?” Stiles still feels half asleep, his body and brain sluggish.

Derek’s whole body tenses even further, his hands clenched into fists on his lap “Laura, shut up!” He bites out at her.

Laura’s grin falters, her jaw hanging open a little slackly. “I thought you were going to…”

“Well you thought wrong! For fucks sake Laura!” Derek moves with such speed to get out from under him that Stiles doesn’t know what’s happening until he loses his balance and falls first into the sofa and then onto the floor, cracking his head against the coffee table, and yeah that wakes him up totally.

“YOU THOUGHT WRONG OKAY?” And with that Derek is storming out of the room and up the stairs.

Laura shoots Stiles a concerned look, commanding, “Stay there,” before running after her brother.

He can hear them arguing as a lead like weight settles in his stomach. He numbly rubs a hand over the back of his head where it hurts.

“Derek go back downstairs…”

“I don’t want to see him! Just leave me alone.”

“Go and sort this!”

“I’m going to bed, and he should just go home!”

“Derek…”

“I want him to go!”

Stiles can hear Laura heading back towards the stairs. He isn’t going to wait for her to come back down, give him a pitying look and attempt to make excuses for what he’s just heard. He’s on his feet, shoving his shoes on, grabbing his stuff, and running out of the house before she can stop him, driving himself home as fast as he can because he doesn’t want to hear anymore.

He pulls over at the side of the road when his phone starts to ring, thinking maybe...but no. It’s Laura. He cuts her off, pauses and then viciously starts hitting buttons as he texts Erica _Hey Erica, I know it’s been a while, but if you still fancy that coffee then let me know, Stiles_ , because fuck Derek fucking Hale.

\-----

Stiles avoids the staff room as much as he can, checking through the glass window for Laura before entering, and eating his lunch either in his classroom or somewhere outside. He’s done a pretty good job of avoiding her for a week, making excuses about having to be somewhere or needing to do something every time they’re together long enough to progress from small talk.

Laura finally corners him at the end of the day when he’s putting his jacket on. “You are coming over tonight, right?” She asks, tugging on his arm slightly.

Stiles would frankly rather stab his own eyes out with a compass than see Derek right now. “I have plans,” is all he says, throwing her a ‘what can you do’ shrug.

“ Whoa whoa whoa! You can’t bail on Pizza Monday!” Laura sounds desperate, and her voice has a slight pleading tone to it. Things are hideously strained between them, like they’re both trying to ignore what happened, and Stiles just can’t keep doing this. He misses her friendship, but this is so awkward.

“If you can bail for a date, I can bail for a date.” It snaps out of him, and Stiles knows he sounds bitter. He shouldn’t be taking it out on Laura, but he’s still hurt and confused, and frankly pissed off, and she’s here and Derek’s not.

“You have a date?” Laura’s voice is sharp and shocked, and it riles Stiles up even further, like she can’t believe someone is actually romantically interested in him. Obviously neither of the Hales considers him worth while date material.

“Yeah, she told me to call her a few weeks ago. I wasn’t sure then, but now I figure why the hell not?” adding mentally seeing as your brother doesn’t give a shit about me.

He feels guilty when he sees Laura worrying her bottom lip and letting out a defeated little sigh.

“Ok. Have a nice night Stiles,” she says softly, squeezing him on the shoulder and walking away.

“Thanks,” he calls after her, and hates how messed up this whole situation has become. “See you tomorrow, maybe we could go out for lunch?” He doesn’t want to lose Laura’s friendship over this. He needs to get over it and stop licking his wounds. So Derek is repulsed by the thought of them as a couple, he’s not the first person to react that way.

Laura turns to look over her shoulder and gives him a little smile, then says “That’d be nice,” and then she’s gone. Stiles waits a few minutes before heading out to his car and driving off to meet Erica.

\-----

Erica looks good, she really does. Here hair is wavy and full and her make-up makes her eyes and lips look huge and enticing. It’s around the seventh time Stiles finds himself thinking _Derek wouldn’t have giggled when I said that, he’d have rolled his eyes at me even though I know he would have found it funny_ , that he realizes this is pretty much futile. He drinks his coffee and he smiles, but he makes sure he doesn’t do anything to encourage her. Because he’s not a dick who likes to lead someone on like _some people_. About half way through the date Erica stops twiddling her hair and leaning towards him, and Stiles figures she's pick up the message and is relieved when it turns into a friendly chat instead of anything more.

\-----

Lunch with Laura goes ok. Neither of them talk about Stiles’ date, or Derek, or what happened. Instead they discuss the kids, and what they’ve been up to, and snipe at Harris. It’s safe but it’s nice. He’s starting to relax into their friendship again.

“My flat is looking pretty swish now, you should come over to mine for Pizza Monday for a change,” Stiles ventures a few days later. “I know your dirty secret by the way.”

“Oh really?” Laura quirks and eyebrow and Stiles hates that sometimes looking at her is like looking at her brother.

“That you are a hideous cook. Derek told me…” he trails off, because neither of them have mentioned Derek’s name for so long it feels like an explosion, it hurts as it trips of his tongue and rips something inside him apart.

Laura looks at him and her face falls slightly for a moment before she’s putting a smile back on her lips. “Pizza at yours sounds great Stiles.”

\-----

When Monday evening rolls round and Stiles hear the knock at his door he’s pretty relaxed.

That feeling disappears the instant he opens said door. Laura is standing there with Derek hovering behind her, his hands in his pockets, his eyes downcast.

“I don't remember inviting him,” Stiles snaps before Laura can get a word out.

Laura’s laugh sounds forced, “I know, he's like a bad smell, just sort of lingers where he will.’

“I just…wanted to give you something.” Derek gets out before Stiles can say anything else.

Derek looks like hell if Stiles is honest. Tired and frazzled. Maybe he hasn't slept since their little nap together on the sofa. Maybe it’s still gives him nightmares.

“Whatever,” Stiles shrugs, not wanting to look at him for any longer than he can help it, he stares at the spot where Derek was as he steps to the side to reveal what he’s brought with him.

Stiles stares at the bookcase, undoubtedly hand crafted. It looks smooth and solid, with simplistic thick Celtic type carving around the corners. Stiles thinks recognizes the spirals as a triskelion if he’s not mistaken. It is a beautiful bookcase.

The lift in his building doesn't work, which means Derek has hauled the thing up two flights of stairs.

“If you like it I’ll bring it in,” Derek mumbles.

Stiles dithers over letting his spite win and telling Derek to take it away again, but it is a beautiful bookcase, and Derek so owes him, so he just shrugs again and moves back from the door to allow them both to enter, carrying the thing.

Laura gives him a tentative smile that seems to say ‘forgive me for bringing him?’ but Stiles isn’t ready to return it just yet. The whole point of inviting Laura over here was so he wouldn’t have to see Derek, and yet here he is.

“Thanks,” his voice sounds cool even to his own ears, “for that. See you later then. Only, I only bought enough food for two so…”

Laura’s face hardens and Derek says, “Oh.”

There’s an awkward silence before Derek speaks again, keeping his voice light an jokey, “If the bookcase stays so do I. Make your choice”. He offers a tentative smile.

Stiles recoils at hearing his own words from that night mirrored back at him. It feels like a slap in the face.

“Well if you want to drag it back down two flights of stairs be my guest.” He glares at Derek, “but I don’t need a bookcase that badly.”

He hates that he feels bad when Derek’s face crumples, before turning blank, and then frustrated.

“Whatever. Keep it, don’t keep it, I’m not wasting my time hauling it around any more,” Derek retorts, shoving his hands back into the pockets of his leather jacket, spinning on his heels and leaving the room.

“Oh and there he goes again with his tail between his legs!” Stiles shouts after him, balling his own hands into fists at his sides because Derek might have brought him a present, but showing up here uninvited without even an apology is a shitty thing to do, and running away again is even shittier. Even if Stiles did just tell him to go, Derek should have said no, should have tried to stay and make it right.

“Well that was a really dick move Stiles!” Laura snarls at him, shoving his arm hard.

Stiles rounds on her, his eyes dark and his body tense.

“Ok, so we’re finally going to stop tiptoeing around the massive white fucking elephant up the corner and do this are we? Fine. You want to talk about dick moves? A dick move was you bringing him here when you knew I didn’t want to see him.” He can feel his anger surging up and out.

“A really dick move is spending the night flirting with someone and then waking up with them and acting like they repulse you! I thought…I thought he…Oh it doesn’t even matter! Because I now know loud and fucking clear that he doesn’t, but…”

Stiles can feel himself running out of steam, because he is so tired of this. All he’s done since that night is go over and over it, trying to work out what he interpreted wrong. So far he hasn’t found anything so he just doesn’t understand.

“You might want to tell your brother not to play with his food in future, because it fucking hurts being on the receiving end, especially when you find out he doesn’t mean it!” Stiles kicks the wall and turns away from Laura, trying to get his emotions under control. This is not the evening he had been hoping for.

“Stiles,” he feels her hand on his shoulder and lets out a shuddering sigh.

“Go after him, it’s ok. I get it; he’s your brother, even if he is a dick.”

Laura turns him around forcibly but gently and makes him meet her eye. “Don’t judge him too harshly, please?” Her expression is hard to resist, and Stiles can’t help but think she got the charm of the family. Derek certainly didn’t.

“Maybe an apology might have helped me be more forgiving,” he snaps waspishly. Laura rolls her eyes then.

“Because spending all his spare time crafting you a custom made bookcase wasn’t his way of apologizing? He’s barely slept he’s been so busy working on it around his job.” She sighs “Derek doesn’t _say_ sorry Stiles, he just tries to show you he’s sorry. It’s what he does, and as gestures go…” she waves her hand at the bookcase.

Stiles just looks at his feet, because at this point he’s starting to realize he was pretty harsh. It is his default setting that if someone hurts him he hurts them back, but sometimes he can find it hard to stop.

“I think maybe you should have this,” Laura pulls in envelope out of her bag. “I didn’t want to interfere anymore, as I seem to have made things worse numerous times, but maybe the thing that messed it up can also be the thing that fixes it.” She squeezes Stiles’ shoulder and puts the envelope on top of the bookcase.

\-----

Stiles stares at the envelope for a good 20 minutes. He ignores it for about 15 more, eating his now cold pizza and drinking a soda. What ever it is, it isn’t going to erase what happened.

Eventually he caves, getting up and starting to wander towards it before almost running the last few steps.

Stiles opens the envelope flap and pulls out the contents. It’s a photo, or more specifically, it’s the photo Laura took of him and Derek asleep on the couch.

Stiles feels like he’s been punched in the stomach seeing them like that. He makes a sharp intake of breath, because he’s not sure what he was expecting that photo to look like, but it wasn’t this.

This, he realizes, is an opportunity to see the scene from a whole different angle, not from his point of view that’s been warped and twisted by the events that followed, but to see what Laura saw, what they were like when no-one was watching. Stiles runs a finger over the photo, and looks hard for what it’s trying to tell him.

He sees himself asleep, half sunk down the sofa with his head half on Derek’s shoulder half on his chest like he already knew yes, and his fingers clutching at Derek's top, but…He also see’s Derek’s hand in his hair, fingers curled loosely into the strands. He sees the way Derek’s body is curving over and into his, his jaw resting on Stiles’ forehead, a the smallest trace of a smile on his lips. And all he can think is _Oh. Oh, oh, oh_ over and over again.

By the time he’d properly woken up Derek had already removed himself from underneath Stiles and put as much distance between them as possible. Stiles had just presumed it was in disgust, but looking at the photo in his hands he finds that hard to believe. In fact, that small smile tilting Derek’s lips _just slightly_ makes it impossible to believe.

“He's an idiot, and I’ve been a dick haven’t I?” Stiles groans to himself, scrubbing a hand through his hair. He doesn’t know why Derek reacted so badly, but it obviously wasn’t because the thought of being with Stiles repulsed him. He flops back down on the sofa and stays that way for sometime; trying to work out what the hell he’s going to do next; because this needs to be put right. He looks at the photo again and feels his insides twist at how intimate they look; if there’s any chance they can have still have that, then Stiles needs to make it happen.

\-----

Stiles thinks about phoning, but he doubts Derek would pick up. Even if he did, Stiles isn’t exactly sure what he’d say. He thinks about driving over there, but he doesn’t want to go rushing in all declarations and desperations either, because it seems kind of early for that and one thing is painfully obvious; when it comes to this kind of thing, Derek spooks easily.

In the end he falls into an uneasy sleep on the sofa and drags himself to work the next morning somewhat on autopilot. A plan is formulating, and the first part of that plan is to talk to Laura. Depending on the outcome of that, he will proceed with ether option A or Option B.

\-----

He texts Laura and asks her to meet him in his classroom well before lessons begin. She’s already there when he arrives, and he’s grateful that she’s still speaking to him.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles blurts out. “I was rude to you yesterday, and I was unnecessarily harsh to Derek.”

Laura smiles a little, “You were, on both accounts, but it’s ok. My brother can drive anybody mad, I should know.”

“Laura…” he pauses and meets her eyes, “I know he’s your brother, and I know you might not be comfortable with this, but I need to know…Am I wasting my time or should I keep trying?”

Laura shifts from one foot to another.

Stiles sighs, “Look, cards on the table. I like your brother a lot, but if he doesn’t feel the same then I’ll deal…like an adult this time, and I’ll smooth things over. But I need to know. I thought I had him figured out, and then he just freaked the hell out so…”

Laura moves forward and takes one of Stiles’ hands between her own. “Don’t give up on him,” she almost begs. “He’s not good at this; he doesn’t really do relationships. He doesn’t like letting people close, I think…” she trails off.

“He’s afraid of losing anything else,” Stiles finishes for her as the realization dawns on him. Laura nods, and boy does he feel like a class A jackass round about now. Because, apart from Laura, everything Derek loved was ripped away from him, why would he want to risk getting close enough to anyone to let that happen again?

\-----

The day seems to drag agonizingly slowly, and Stiles let’s his students get away with more than he probably should, but he really doesn’t want to be there right now.

Finally the students leave and Stiles is seconds behind them. Laura sees him sprinting for the exit and yells “You go get him tiger!” at him before laughing and heading for the staffroom, blocking the way of Harris who is shouting “Stilinski, where are you going? We need to discuss…” as Stiles bursts through the doors and gets the hell out of dodge.

 

He sits in his car for a while when he pulls up out outside the garage. Now he’s here, he’s not entirely sure how to proceed. Derek isn’t in sight when he enters the building. A middle aged, somewhat bald man comes out from behind a car wiping his hands on his overalls and asks if he can help.

“I’m looking for Derek…”

“He’s out the back working on something, I can call him though.”

Stiles shakes his head, “No, I’ll go find him, don’t want to stop you from doing…whatever it is you were doing.” Stiles has no idea when it comes to cars. “I mean, if it’s ok for me to go in there?”

The man just grunts and nods towards a doorway.

Derek’s got the hood up on a dark red car and is bent over with his hands working on something that looks intricate and fiddly, although Derek seems confident and quick at whatever the hell it is he’s actually doing. He’s humming along tunelessly with the radio, Stile suspects he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.

Stiles walks over quietly until he’s a couple of feet away before he says, “You really are good with your hands.”

Derek jumps and bangs his head on the top of the bonnet, and ok, maybe surprising him wasn’t such a good idea. He spins round to look at Stiles, a scowl on his face.

Stiles isn’t going to be put off though. “Can we talk?” It’s clichéd and overused, but it is neutral & ambiguous enough to be safe to use in front of any possible prying ears. “I thought maybe we could go for that coffee I owe you when you're finished?

“I'm working late tonight, not going to be finished until 8pm so…” Derek turns his attention back to the car.

Stiles isn't giving up that easily, “Ok, so I’ll get take out coffee and we can drink it here while you work.”

Derek turns back to look at him with some kind of wrench in his hand and furrowed eyebrows. His whole demeanor screams ‘kindly shut the fuck up and leave me alone’.

Stiles just waggles his eyebrows at him. “You know you want to really!”

“I really don’t,” Derek replies, shooting him a look of contempt.

“Yo, mechanic dude!” Stiles shouts, and the guy from the other room sticks his head around the door looking somewhat annoyed. “Can I steal him for 20 minutes?” He gestures at Derek ,“Kind of urgent”

The guy just looks at them for a minute, “Whatever, you worked through lunch Hale so fine, but be back by 5pm.” then disappears again.

Stiles turns back to Derek with a big grin, but Derek has grabbed hold of his jacket and his manhandling him back against the car, a furious expression on his face. “For fucks sake Stiles, you can’t just…”

“Well I can, and I did.” Stiles flicks Derek’s nose. “So you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

Derek looks taken aback by the gesture and Stiles uses his surprise to change direction. “We need to sort this,” he says gently, looking at Derek firmly.

Derek lets out an audible sigh but nods once, so they head out.

Stiles drives them to Erica’s coffee shop, because it’s the only one he knows out this way and it’s really close to the garage. He was hoping she wouldn’t be working, but she is. She smiles at him when they reach the counter, but it’s friendly not flirty this time. Stiles orders a plain latte because he doesn’t need too much caffeine or sugar right now, and Derek gets a normal coffee which makes Erica laugh and say they don’t get much call for those. Derek doesn’t laugh, so Stiles laughs for him. Derek hasn't said a word since they left the garage, and Stiles is starting to find the silence deafening.

They pay and find a table. Derek looks at his watch, then his coffee, and then his watch again.

Stiles’ mouth feels dry so he takes a sip of his coffee. “The bookcase is beautiful,” he says quietly when he can’t take the silence anymore.

Derek makes a non-committal noise.

“Thank you,” Stiles adds lamely.

“You dragged me over here for that?” Derek questions, pursing his lips and arching an eyebrow.

“No, I dragged you here because everything was going well, and then you freaked the fuck out on me and I reacted by being a grade A dick about it,” Stiles snaps, running a hand over the back of his neck.

Derek lets out a shaky breath. “Oh, that, yeah.”

Stiles can’t help it, he laughs at the way Derek says it, all nonchalant and flippant. His laughter is rewarded with a small curve of Derek’s lips, which he is trying to hide behind his coffee cup.

“So,” Stiles begins, his eyes focused on Derek, “the thing is, I like you. I’m pretty sure you like me too, what I’m not sure about is why we’re side stepping around this and not just running with it and seeing where it goes?”

Derek’s tightens his grip on his mug. “I’m not good at this,” he gestures across the space between him and Stiles.

Stiles grins and leans over the table to stage whisper; “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly great at it either.”

And that does earn him a real smile and a huff of laughter from Derek.

“So, will you let me buy you dinner on Friday?” Stiles asks quietly, his tongue darts out nervously, because he’s still not sure Derek won’t run for the hills again.

Derek’s eyes flicker between the table and Stiles. “If I say yes to the free meal does that mean I’ll have to put up with your company while I eat it?”

“If I’m providing the food, I’m staying.” Stiles smiles, “Those are the rules remember?”

\-----

Dinner on Friday is nice. They don’t make a big deal of it, the restaurant is casual and neither of them calls it a date.

Stiles knows that Derek needs this to move slowly, and so he waits. They still all get together for pizza on Monday nights, Laura doesn’t push or interfere, but every time she sees them together she wears this ridiculous fucking grin.

Stiles learns that Laura had been like a dog with a bone over trying to get the two of them together, apparently she’d been in Derek’s ear constantly. Things make more sense when they tell him Laura had never had a date that night and that it had all be pre-arranged so Derek could get Stiles alone and make a move. Stiles just laughs at them and presses his leg against Derek’s under the table.

Derek also starts going to Stiles’ flat on Thursday evenings after work. They hang out, argue over what DVDs to watch and talk about their days. They go out on Saturdays some weeks, play pool or have a couple of beers, and it’s good. They get to know each other properly.

Sometimes Stiles finds himself worrying that they’re heading into the sort of territory where you become friends and nothing more. He wants every time he looks at Derek, in fact the intensity of that want is just getting worse the more time they spend together, but sometimes he worries Derek doesn’t feel the same way, that maybe Derek just wants his friendship and nothing more.

But then he forces himself to take a step back from his insecurities and look. When he does, he sees the way Derek’s eyes darken sometimes when he’s just staring at him, he feels the way Derek’s hands linger when they brush against him, he notices the goosebumps that appear on Derek’s arm when he’s stroking it lazily when they’re curled up watching a movie. So Stiles waits, because as long as he knows it’s what Derek wants to he can deal with it.

Derek hates riding in Stiles’ car, claiming it is an embarrassment to motor kind and that being seen in it would ruin his reputation, so more often than not they take his bike. Stiles isn’t afraid of it anymore, and frankly anything that gives him an excuse to plaster himself all over Derek in the name of safety can’t be a bad thing.

\-----

Stiles still spends most Sundays with his dad. He hasn’t told him about the change in his relationship with Derek yet, because they haven’t really put a label on what it is they’re doing, and apart from Laura no one else knows.

So Stiles nearly walks into the doorframe when his father asks, “So, are you ever going to tell me about your mystery boyfriend?”

“I, what?” Stiles gawks unattractively, and leans on the door for support, because this really isn’t a conversation he wants to be having yet. The Sheriff fixes him with a look and Stiles feel sixteen again.

“I keep hearing reports of ‘oh your boy was in here again with his gentleman friend the other week’ or ‘hey, whose motorbike do I keep seeing your kid on the back of?’ that kind of thing. Also, Stiles, you're practically vibrating with happiness, and as your father, I feel I have the right to tell you it's a little bit nauseating.”

“I don’t have…we’re not officially…” Stiles groans. “It’s early days,” he says eventually. “We’ve been taking it slow and decided not to tell anyone until we were sure.” He tugs on the sleeve of his shirt and sits down opposite his father at the table.  
The sheriff holds up his hands and Stiles thinks the worst is over.

“I’m very happy for you and Derek son, I know this is what you wanted.”

“What? How did you know it was Derek?” Stiles flails slightly, because apparently nothing stays secret in Beacon Hills, ever.

His dad laughs and shakes his head in amusement and disbelief. “Oh Stiles, who else was it going to be?”

Stiles doesn’t really have an answer for that.

\-----

Stiles applies for the guidance counselor job at the school and Derek tells him to stop chewing his nails every time the phone rings because it’s a as good as his. When he finally gets the call Derek is sitting on the sofa watching TV, and Stiles takes the phone into the kitchen area. Derek mutes the TV and watches over the back of the sofa and then Stiles is grinning ear-to-ear saying, “I got it man, I got it!”

He’s so busy dancing round the kitchen doing the patented Stilinski victory dance that he doesn’t notice Derek getting up and walking over until he finds his back up against the fridge and Derek looking deep into his eyes and saying, “Congratulations” before leaning in and kissing him. It’s a soft kiss, but it’s not hesitant and Stiles throws himself into it with abandon. His brain shorts out for a few moments before coming back online and telling him that this might just be the best day ever.

He laces his fingers around the back of Derek’s neck, pulling him slightly closer, and shivers when Derek’s fingers close around his hips, because sweet god yes he’s been waiting for this. It’s a million times better than he’d imagined, and that’s saying something. His lips part in invitation when he feels Derek’s tongue brushing against them, and Derek obliges him, sweeping his tongue into Stiles' mouth, causing Stiles to moan softly and move his fingers to Derek’s hair, tugging him closer more firmly.

When Derek pulls away he looks a little flushed, but extremely satisfied, before pressing his lips against Stiles’ forehead. Stiles can feel the ridiculously goofy grin he’s wearing, but he doesn’t care. “That was…” he murmurs, “Apparently you’re really good with your mouth too.”

Derek leans into towards him and laughs against his neck, before kissing it, which does things to Stiles and makes his breath catch in his throat.

He puts a hand on Derek’s jaw and draws his face back until he can meet his eye. “We good?” he asks quietly

Derek rolls his eyes. “Yes you idiot, I would say we’re good.”

\-----

After that they kiss, a lot, like someone opened a floodgate. Even Laura, official champion of this romance, has started to look nauseated.

“Boys please,” she groans when she comes home with pizza and finds Derek has Stiles hoisted up on the kitchen worktop with his legs wrapped around Derek’s waist and Derek’s tongue down his throat. “Think of my sanity,” she laments.

Derek smirks and dips his hands down the back of Stiles waistband just slightly and Stiles stifles a laugh. He stops when Derek’s fingertips start moving in little circles.

“I prepare food on that table,” she whines, glowering at them. They both look at her pointedly. “Oh ok, I stab the shit out of microwave meals on that table, better?” She snaps.

“We’ll bleach it afterwards?” Stiles offers, his voice a little rough, because Derek’s fingers are pretty much burning against his skin and it’s distracting as hell.

“If only I could bleach my eyes,” she mutters and starts slamming pizzas onto plates.

Derek pulls away and helps Stiles down, heading for the table. He turns to look at Stiles, who isn’t following, in confusion.

“I’ll errr, I’ll be right there just, just give me a minute,” Stiles can feel the blush on his face, but he cannot sit down and eat pizza until he’s quelled his hard on. When he glances at Derek he can’t help but notice the way Derek’s eyes darken and his tongue snakes out to wet his lips. That really isn’t helping.

\-----

It’s only a matter of time before kissing really isn’t enough, particularly given the way Derek kisses. Stiles is always aware of not pushing too hard; he’s happy and Derek seems happy, but earlier experiences in their relationship have left a small part of him always afraid Derek will suddenly find it too much and panic, running for the hills. So he waits, just as he has done all along. But sometimes it’s harder to wait than others.

They’re in Stiles’ flat, Derek is sat on the sofa and Stiles is straddling his lap. They’ve been kissing for a while now, and it’s glorious. Derek’s mouth seems to have settled on his neck for now though, and he’s kissing, nipping and sucking at the skin there. Stiles is off school for the Christmas holidays, and Derek seems to be taking this as an invite to give him as many hickeys as possible in one sitting. Derek’s hands are under his shirt, blunt nails scratching over his skin, and Stiles can feel the heat building in the pit of his stomach. His fingers dig into the skin of Derek’s shoulders through the fabric of his shirt and he moans softly, rocking his hips slightly before realizing what he’s doing. Stiles feels Derek’s teeth nip at him slightly harder, and makes a small gasping sound.

“Derek,” he whispers, his voice cracked, Derek persists. Stiles reluctantly pulls a hand out from under Derek’s shirt and places it on his chest. “Derek.”

Derek stops what he’s doing but doesn’t lift his head.

Stiles clears his throat. “I think I need a moment, because if you keep going like that,” Stiles swallows and decides to go for broke, because honestly, he doesn’t think Derek’s going anywhere anymore and he needs to stop worrying about it, “ I’m going to want to pin you down and ravish every inch of you with my mouth so…”

He feels Derek suck in a breath against his neck and for a moment there is just silence and stillness, and then Derek’s teeth are grazing over his skin again with renewed vigor, tongue licking over the bruise that must be forming.

Stiles’ hands find the hem of Derek’s shirt and he murmurs, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” as he lifts it up and over Derek’s head.

In all honesty Stiles could probably spend all day exploring Derek’s body. His muscles are somewhat intoxicating. He runs his fingers down Derek’s chest, dipping his index finger into his navel they way he’s been dreaming about since the day he caught Derek fresh out of the shower all those weeks ago. Derek’s muscles shift beneath his fingers and palms, tensing and flexing, and touching with his fingers _really_ isn’t enough.

Stiles dips his head low and slides his tongue over Derek’s collarbone, wriggling further back on Derek’s lap so he can continue moving lower. The movement draws a moan from Derek that makes Stiles feel somewhat heady and determined.

He slips down Derek’s legs and off his lap until he's on his knees on the floor. Derek is just staring at him with dark eyes and blown pupils and Stiles _wants_ , so he tugs at Derek’s hips and moves him closer to the edge of the sofa before positioning himself between Derek’s legs and resuming his exploration. His tongue skims over defined abs and skirts over the top of Derek’s hipbone and suddenly there are fingers threaded in his hair and massaging his scalp.

Stiles pulls away and looks down at the button on Derek’s jeans and back up at Derek, whose fingers are still in his hair. It’s slight, but he sees the nod of Derek’s head and that’s all he needs.

He trails his fingers over the seam of the denim, lingering over the bulge against the fabric and hears Derek’s breathing deepen. He would tease for longer, but he can’t wait, so he deftly unbuttons, unzips and slides his long fingers inside the fabric.

Derek shudders and makes a small delicious sound and oh, Stiles wants more of that! He lets his hand curl around Derek, stroking up and down a couple of times and getting used to the feel of him. Stiles grins when Derek’s hips twitch as his thumb brushes over the tip of his cock.

Derek makes a sound of frustration when Stiles pulls away, which makes him preen slightly.

“I want these off,” he tells Derek, matter of factly, “Now!” And he tugs at the fabric of his jeans and boxers.

Derek’s cants his hips upwards so Stiles can pull them down, a flicker of a smirk on his lips.

“What?” Stiles questions

“I knew you’d be bossy,” Derek’s grin is lazy, his eyes slightly hooded.

Stiles let’s out a little indignant noise. He’d normally argue, but well, he’s currently admiring Derek’s cock, so he’s somewhat distracted.

“Don’t let me stop you…” Derek prompts, glancing from Stiles to his own lap.

“And I knew you’d be demanding,” Stiles mutters, but his lips are curved into a grin when they press against the inside of Derek’s thigh.

Stiles knows he’s good at this, college was educational in more ways than one, but it still makes him flush to knows he’s causing Derek to make such wonderful noises. The fingers in his hair are tugging now, as he holds Derek’s hips down with one hand, the other cupping his balls while he gets to work with his tongue. He sets a rhythm of licks and sucks, moving his other hand to wrap around the base of Derek's cock and tug, coaxing him towards the edge with his fingers and his mouth.

Derek is whispering his name, and Stiles glances up at him through his eyelashes, and god he’s so far gone, his mouth open and his head tilted back. Derek’s eyes are slits as he groans out “Close” in warning.

Stiles doesn't pull back, and he never takes his eyes off Derek as he comes, the taste of him filling his mouth and flooding down his throat.

Derek’s whole body sinks back into the couch, boneless. Stiles can’t stop looking, because, that perfect little smile on Derek’s face, he did that, and it feels immense. He can’t help but wonder how many people have been privileged enough to see Derek that way, so unguarded. He suspects the list is pretty short, but that’s a conversation for another time, because frankly Stiles doesn’t care as long as he's the one that gets to keep seeing it from now on.

Derek finally opens his eyes when his breathing has returned to normal, and asks “What?”

“Nothing, just enjoying the view,” Stiles replies a little wistfully, shifting where he sits, because his jeans are uncomfortably tight right now.

Derek runs a hand through his hair and pulls his clothes back up, tucking himself into his jeans before getting to his feet and offering Stiles a hand. Stiles just blinks at it for a moment, wondering what Derek is thinking. Is it kind of rude to expect some form of reciprocation? If he's not going to then Stiles is going to have to have some him time, because fuck he's hard. Then he feels Derek’s gaze intensify as he grips tightly around Stiles’ wrist, pulling him to his feet, and instructing, “Bedroom, now”

“Now who’s being bossy?” Stiles tells him, although he doesn’t do a very good job of making his point, as he’s almost tripping over his own feet in his hurry.

\-----

“Not that anyone could blame you for not being able to control yourself in the presence of a fine specimen such as myself but…you do realize you’ve made a rooky mistake?” Stiles informs him, after, when they’re laying in a tangle of sheets and limbs. His face is pressed against Derek’s chest, their fingers laced lazily together.

Derek is barely awake but he manages to grumble “Oh?”

“Yep. Now you’ve put out, you pretty much _have_ to come to Christmas dinner at my Dad’s. I don’t think I can really fob him off with the excuse that we’re taking it slow anymore, so…”

Derek groans into the pillow.

“Laura’s invited too of course, and it goes without saying _she_ doesn’t need to put out to get an invite, because that would just be wrong on _so_ many levels…”

“Oh my god. Stiles, shut up,” Derek’s voice is muffled but Stiles suspects he is smiling into that pillow even if he doesn’t want to be.

Stiles grins. “That’s not what you were saying earlier, you can’t have it all ways Derek,” he sing songs.

“Are you going to be this annoying and perky every time you’re post coital?” Derek pushes himself off the pillow slightly to side eye Stiles, “Because the sex was good, but I’m not sure if it’s worth the trade off.”

"You wanted me, you have to put up will all of me. Those are the rules," Stiles retorts.

"Those are the rules," Derek echoes a certain softness to his voice. "Unfortunately."

Stiles huffs out a breath of annoyance, searches for a retort and settles on hitting him with a pillow instead.

It would have more effect if the bastard hadn’t fallen asleep.

\-----

Stiles hasn’t told Scott about Derek, he plans to surprise him and Allison when they come home for Christmas. He’s had to dodge questions about their situation; but he didn’t want to tell them until he knew things were definite, and Derek was comfortable with everyone knowing their business.

He'd been gearing up to it, but then one night while they had been spread out on the couch (Stiles on top of Derek and Derek's hands where they liked to be the best; one in his hair, one on the small of his back) he was discussing with Derek when the most hilarious time to slip it into the conversation with Scott for maximum effect might be, and Derek had suggested it would be better to wait until they came home so Stiles could see the look on Scott’s face. Stiles had grinned and nodded in agreement.

As it happens, fate decides to set the scene for that moment rather nicely. Stiles is due to meet Scott and Allison for lunch, only his stupid piece of shit car won’t start. So he calls Derek and begs for help, then calls Scott to let him know that he is currently without car.

Scott and Allison show up about 15 minutes later and both of them are laughing at him.

Stiles scowls “Hey I think it’s you!” He points accusingly at Scott. “It’s like she senses when you’re near and just loses the will to live!”

“Did it really break down Stiles?” Scott is grinning like a dork. “Or did you pull a part out and throw it away for an excuse to call Derek to the rescue again? You can tell us the truth bro."

Stiles tries to keep the wry grin off his face when he sees Derek had arrived and is standing behind Scott.

“Well?” Derek asks, moving past Scott and towards Stiles, “Was this just a rouse to lure me here?”

Scott has gone pale and his mouth is open but no words are coming out, he’s just shooting Stiles a look that says _'oh god dude I am so, so sorry'_. Allison looks mildly horrified for Stiles to say the least as she's giving him the _'I'm really sorry my boyfriend is an idiot_ ' eyes.

"No, she really has died another painful death, although I think I saw a porno that started like that once," Stiles grins.

Derek moves round behind Stiles in a somewhat predatory manner before sliding his arms around his waist and murmuring “kinky” down his ear before turning him round and kissing him softly.

“Holy shit!” Scott all but squeaks, and Allison claps her hands together and makes a squealing sound.

Stiles turns back to them looking smug. “Oh yeah guys, I was going to tell you over dinner, me and Derek are kind of a thing these days,” He says it like it’s the most casual piece of new ever. _I might pick up some milk later, I hear it might rain later, oh and this is my super hot boyfriend, no biggie._

“Kind of?” Derek questions, quirking an eyebrow and god, _he is so full of sass sometimes,_ Stiles thinks.

“Me and Derek are most definitely and emphatically a thing these days,” Stiles amends, shooting Derek a look that clearly states _better?_ The small smile he gets in return tells him it is.

Scott and Alison are giggling and gawking and tugging on each others sleeves, eyes wide with disbelief.

Stiles shakes his head as he says to Derek, “Dear god look at them. I’m ashamed they’re my friends right now.”

Stiles notices the glint in Derek’s eyes just before he speaks, it makes him shiver slightly.

“Best give them something to really stare at,” Derek grins, taking Stiles’ hands in his and pulling him in for another kiss, slow, steady and brief, but infinitely full of promises.

\-----

Derek is all kinds of awkward and grumpy before they leave the flat, frowning as Stiles interrupts his schedule of flitting from room to room, grabbing presents and the sour apple pie he made yesterday and god knows what else, to straighten Derek's tie.

"Derek, just...it's just my Dad ok, relax and smile."

Derek scowls at him. "Says the idiot rushing around like he's about to have a meltdown. Just watching you is making me nervous!"

They get there a few minutes late, and Laura has beaten them. Stiles soon comes to one very vigorous conclusion; the Sheriff and Laura should never be left alone together, ever.

The Sheriff shakes Derek's hand and directs him to his seat at the table. Things are a bit strange to start with, but then neither set of family is used to sharing Christmas with anyone else.

Stiles catches Derek worrying his napkin with a far away, slightly sad expression on his face and attempts to soothe him with a game of footsie.

"Son, I really think I should stop you right there and tell you that's my foot you're molesting, " the Sheriff almost groans in despair.

Laura nearly chokes on her turkey she's laughing so hard, and...and so is Derek. He's looking at Stiles with an unspeakably fond expression and his shoulders are shaking with his laughter.

Stiles catches his Dad's eye and mouths an awkward apology but his dad is just chuckling and smiling at him.

After that everything goes smoothly, and Stiles really hopes Stilinksi/Hale family meals become as much of a tradition as Pizza Mondays; because those worked out pretty well for him in the end.


End file.
